a 


MISS   LOU" 


BY 


EDWARD   P.  ROE 


AUTHOR  OF  "BARRIERS  BURNED  AWAY,"  "OPENING  A  CHESTNUT 

BURR,"  "WITHOUT  A  HOME,"  "HE  FELL  IN 

LOVE  WITH   HIS  WIFE,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 

DODD,  MEAD    AND  COMPANY 

1888 


Copyright,  1888, 
By  DODD,  MEAD  &  COMPANY. 


All  rights  reterved. 


In  Eo&t'ng  Uetu'cation 
To   "LITTLE    MISS    LOU," 

MY  YOUNGEST  DAUGHTER. 


2072163 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  A  Girl's  Protest i 

II.  Something  happens 8 

III.  Mad  Whately 17 

IV.  Aun'  Jinkey's  Policy 26 

V.  Whately's  Idea  of  Courtship   ....  33 

VI.  The  Storm  begins 38 

VII.  Dangers  thickening 50 

VIII.  "When?" 57 

IX.  Paralyzed  with  Shame 65 

X.  A  Baffled  Diplomatist 74 

XI.  Aun'  Jinkey's  Warning 83 

XII.  A  Whirlwind  of  Events        ....  91 

XIII.  The  Unexpected  happens 100 

XIV.  A  Threat 109 

XV.  Miss  Lou  emancipated 117 

XVI.  A  Smile  on  War's  Grim  Face       .        .        .  129 

XVII.  The  Joy  of  Freedom 140 

XVIII.  A  Well-aimed  Slipper 151 

XIX.  A  Girl's  Appeal 162 

XX.  Scoville's  Hope 172 

XXI.  Two  Storms 187 

XXII.  Chunk's  Quest 197 

XXIII.  A  Bold  Scheme 208 

XXIV.  A  Home  a  Hospital 220 

XXV.  A  Tribute  to  a  Southern  Girl        .        .        .231 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

XXVI.  A  Background  of  Egotism 

XXVII.  Aun'  Jinkey's  Supreme  Test 

XXVIII.  Truth  if  the  Heavens  fall  . 

XXIX.  "Angel  of  Death" 

XXX.  Glimpses  of  Moods  and  Minds 

XXXI.  The  Duelists  vanquished    . 

XXXII.  Sad  Tidings        .... 

XXXIII.  Conspirators   .... 

XXXIV.  Chunk  plays  Spook  . 
XXXV.  A  Visitation    .... 

XXXVI.  Uncle  Lusthah  exhorts  . 

XXXVII.  A  New  Routine     . 


*AGB 

243 

25S 
269 
279 
294 
305 
3" 
322 

333 
34i 
349 
360 


"MISS    LOU." 


CHAPTER   I. 
A  girl's  protest. 


A  GREAT,  rudely  built  stone  chimney  was  smoking 
languidly  one  afternoon.  Leaning  against  this  chimney, 
as  if  for  protection  and  support,  was  a  little  cabin  gray  and 
decrepit  with  age.  The  door  of  the  cabin  stood  wide  open, 
for  the  warm  spring  was  well  advanced  in  the  South.  There 
was  no  need  of  a  fire,  but  Aun'  Jinkey,  the  mistress  ot  the 
abode,  said  she  "  kep'  hit  bunin'  fer  comp'ny."  She  sat  by 
it  now,  smoking  as  lazily  as  her  chimney,  in  an  old  chair 
which  creaked  as  if  in  pain  when  she  rocked.  She  supposed 
herself  to  be  in  deep  meditation,  and  regarded  her  corncob 
pipe  not  merely  a  solace  but  also  as  an  invaluable  assistant 
to  clearness  of  thought.  Aun'  Jinkey  had  the  complacent 
belief  that  she  could  reason  out  most  questions  if  she  could 
only  smoke  and  think  long  enough.  Unfortunately,  events 
would  occur  which  required  action,  or  which  raised  new 
questions  before  she  had  had  time  to  solve  those  originally 
presented ;  yet  it  would  be  hard  to  fancy  a  more  tranquil 
order  of  things  than  that  of  which  she  was  a  humble  part. 

The  cabin  was  shaded  by  grand  old  oaks  and  pines,  through 
which  the  afternoon  sun  shone  in  mild  radiance,  streaming 
into  the  doorway  and  making  a  broad  track  of  light  over  the 
uneven  floor.     But  Aun'  Jinkey  kept  back  in  the  congenial 


2  "MISS  LOU." 

dusk,  oblivious  to  the  loveliness  of  nature  without.  At  last 
she  removed  her  pipe  from  her  mouth  and  revealed  her 
mental  processes  in  words. 

"  In  all  my  projeckin'  dat  chile's  wuss  'n  old  mars'r  en 
miss,  en  de  wah,  en  de  preachin'.  I  kin  kin'  ob  see  troo  dem, 
en  w'at  dey  dribin'  at,  but  dat  chile  grow  mo'  quare  en 
on'countable  eb'y  day.  Long  as  she  wus  took  up  wid  her 
doll  en  tame  rabbits  en  pony  dar  vva'n't  no  circum'cutions 
'bout  her,  en  now  she  am  all  circum'cution.  Not'n  gwine 
'long  plain  wid  her.  She  like  de  run  down  dar — hit  win' 
en  win'  ez  ef  hit  had  ter  go  on,  en  hit  couldn't  mek  up  hits 
min'  which  way  ter  go.  Sometime  hit  larfin'  in  de  sun  en  den 
hit  steal  away  whar  you  kyant  mos'  fin'  hit.  Dat  de  way 
wid  Miss  Lou.  She  seem  right  hyar  wid  us  —  she  only  lil 
gyurl  toder  day  —  en  now  she  'clinin'  to  notions  ob  her  own, 
en  she  steal  away  to  whar  she  tink  no  one  see  her  en  tink  on 
heaps  ob  tings.  Won'er  ef  eber,  like  de  run,  she  wanter  go 
way  off  fum  us  ? 

"  Ole  mars'r  en  ole  miss  dunno  en  doan  see  not'n.  Dey 
kyant.  Dey  tinks  de  worl'  al'ays  gwine  des  so,  dat  means  de 
way  dey  tink  hit  orter  go.  Ef  hit  go  any  oder  way,  de  worl's 
wrong,  not  dey.  I  ain'  sayin'  dey  is  wrong,  fer  I  ain'  des 
tink  dat  all  out'n.  'Long  ez  she  keeps  her  foots  on  de  chalk 
line  dey  mark  out  dey  ain'  projeckin'  how  her  min'  go  yere 
en  dar,  zigerty-zag  wid  notions  ob  her  own." 

The  door  darkened,  if  the  radiant  girl  standing  on  the 
threshold  could  be  said  to  darken  any  door.  She  did  not 
represent  the  ordinary  Southern  type,  for  her  hair  was  gold 
in  the  sun  and  her  eyes  blue  as  the  violets  by  the  brook. 
They  were  full  of  mirth  now  as  she  said  :  "  There  you  are, 
Aun'  Jinkey,  smoking  and  '  projecktn' '  as  usual.  You  look 
like  an  old  Voudoo  woman,  and  if  I  didn't  know  you  as  my 
old  mammy  —  if  I  should  just  happen  in  as  a  stranger,  I'd 
be  afraid  of  you." 


A    GIRL'S  PROTEST.  3 

"  Voudoo  ooman  !  How  you  talks,  Miss  Lou  !  I'se  a 
member  ob  de  Baptis'  Church,  en  you  knows  it." 

"  Oh,  I  know  a  heap  '  mo'n  dat,'  as  you  so  often  say.  If 
you  were  only  a  member  of  the  Baptist  Church  I  wouldn't 
be  running  in  to  see  you  so  often.  Uncle  says  a  member  of 
the  Baptist  Church  has  been  stealing  some  of  his  chickens." 

"I  knows  some  tings  'bout  de  members  ob  he  church," 
replied  Aun'  Jinkey,  with  a  toss  of  her  head. 

"  I  reckon  you  do,  more  than  they  would  like  to  see  pub- 
lished in  the  county  paper ;  but  we  aren't  scandal- mongers, 
are  we,  Aun'  Jinkey?  "  and  the  young  visitor  sat  down  in  the 
doorway  and  looked  across  the  green  meadow  seen  through 
the  opening  in  the  trees.  A  dogwood  stood  in  the  corner 
of  the  rail  fence,  the  pink  and  white  of  its  blossoms  well 
matching  the  girl's  fair  face  and  her  rose-dotted  calico  gown, 
which,  in  its  severe  simplicity,  revealed  her  rounded  out- 
lines. 

Aun'  Jinkey  watched  her  curiously,  for  it  was  evident  that 
Miss  Lou's  thoughts  were  far  away.  "  Wat  you  tinkin'  'bout, 
Miss  Lou  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  I  hardly  know  myself.  Come,  Aun'  Jinkey,  be  a 
nice  old  witch  and  tell  me  my  fortune." 

"Wat  you  want  ter  know  yo'  fortin  fur?" 

"  I  want  to  know  more  than  I  do  now.  Look  here,  Aun' 
Jinkey,  does  that  run  we  hear  singing  yonder  go  round  and 
round  in  one  place  and  with  the  same  current?  Doesn't  it 
go  on  ?  Uncle  and  aunt  want  me  to  go  round  and  round, 
doing  the  same  things  and  thinking  the  same  thoughts  —  not 
my  own  thoughts  either.  Oh,  I'm  getting  so  tired  of  it 
all ! " 

"  Lor'  now,  chile,  I  wuz  des  'parin'  you  ter  dat  run  in  my 
min',"  said  Aun'  Jinkey  in  an  awed  tone. 

"  No  danger  of  uncle  or  aunt'  comparing  me  to  the  run, 
or  anything  else.     They  never  had  any  children  and  don't 


4  "MISS  LOU." 

know  anything  about  young  people.  They  have  a  sort  of 
prim,  old-fashioned  ideal  of  what  the  girls  in  the  Baron  family 
should  be,  and  I  must  become  just  such  a  girl  —  just  like 
that  stiff,  queer  old  portrait  of  grandma  when  she  was  a  girl. 
Oh,  if  they  knew  how  tired  of  it  all  I  am  ! " 

"  Bless  yo'  heart,  Miss  Lou,  you  ain'  projeckin'  anyting?  " 

"  No,  I'm  just  chafing  and  beating  my  wings  like  a  caged 
bird." 

"  Now  see  yere,  Miss  Lou,  isn't  you  onreason'ble  ?  You 
hab  a  good  home ;  mars'r  en  miss  monstus  pius,  en  dey 
bringin'  you  up  in  de  nurter  en  'monitions  ob  de  Lawd." 

"Too  much  'monition,  Aun'  Jinkey.  Uncle  and  aunt's 
religion  makes  me  so  tired,  and  they  make  Sunday  so  awfully 
long.  Their  religion  reminds  me  of  the  lavender  and  cam- 
phor in  which  they  keep  their  Sunday  clothes.  And  then 
the  pages  of  the  catechism  they  have  always  made  me  learn, 
and  the  long  Psalms,  too,  for  punishment !  I  don't  under- 
stand religion,  anyway.  It  seems  something  meant  to  uphold 
all  their  views,  and  anything  contrary  to  their  views  isn't 
right  or  religious.     They  don't  think  much  of  you  Baptists." 

"We  ain'  sufrin'  on  dat  'count,  chile,"  remarked  Aun' 
Jinkey,  dryly. 

"There  now,  Aun'  Jinkey,  don't  you  see?  Uncle  owns 
you,  yet  you  think  for  yourself  and  have  a  religion  of  your 
own.  If  he  knew  I  was  thinking  for  myself,  he'd  invoke  the 
memory  of  all  the  Barons  against  me.  I  don't  know  very 
much  about  the  former  Barons,  except  that  my  father  was 
one.  According  to  what  I  am  told,  the  girl  Barons  were  the 
primmest  creatures  I  ever  heard  of.  Then  uncle  and  aunt 
are  so  inconsistent,  holding  up  as  they  do  for  my  admiration 
Cousin  Mad  Whately.  I  don't  wonder  people  shorten  his 
name  from  Madison  to  Mad,  for  if  ever  there  was  a  wild, 
reckless  fellow,  he  is.  Uncle  wants  to  bring  about  a  match, 
because  Mad's  plantation  joins  ours.     Mad  acted  as  if  he 


A    GIRL'S  PROTEST.  5 

owned  me  already  when  he  was  home  last,  and  yet  he  knows 
I  can't  abide  him.  He  seems  to  think  I  can  be  subdued  like 
one  of  his  skittish  horses." 

"  You  hab  got  a  heap  on  yo'  min',  Miss  Lou,  you  sho'ly 
hab.     You  sut'ny  tink  too  much  for  a  young  gyurl." 

"  I'm  eighteen,  yet  uncle  and  aunt  act  towards  me  in  some 
ways  as  if  I  were  still  ten  years  old.  How  can  I  help  think- 
ing? The  thoughts  come.  You're  a  great  one  to  talk 
against  thinking.  Uncle  says  you  don't  do  much  else,  and 
that  your  thoughts  are  just  like  the  smoke  of  your  pipe." 

Aun'  Jinkey  bridled  indignantly  at  first,  but,  recollecting 
herself,  said  quietly  :  "  I  knows  my  juty  ter  ole  mars'r  en'll 
say  not'n  gin  'im.  He  bring  you  up  en  gib  you  a  home,  Miss 
Lou.     You  must  reckermember  dat  ar." 

"  I'm  in  a  bad  mood,  I  suppose,  but  I  can't  help  my 
thoughts,  and  it's  kind  of  a  comfort  to  speak  them  out.  If 
he  only  would  give  me  a  home  and  not  make  it  so  much  like 
a  prison  !  Uncle's  honest,  though,  to  the  backbone.  On  my 
eighteenth  birthday  he  took  me  into  his  office  and  formally 
told  me  about  my  affairs.  I  own  that  part  of  the  plantation  on 
the  far  side  of  the  run.  He  has  kept  all  the  accounts  of  that 
part  separate,  and  if  it  hadn't  been  for  the  war  I'd  have  been 
rich,  and  he  says  I  will  be  rich  when  the  war  is  over  and  the 
South  free.  He  said  he  had  allowed  so  much  for  my  bring- 
ing up  and  for  my  education,  and  that  the  rest  was  invested, 
with  his  own  money,  in  Confederate  bonds.  That  is  all  right, 
and  I  respect  uncle  for  his  downright  integrity,  but  he  wants 
to  manage  me  just  as  he  does  my  plantation.  He  wishes  to 
produce  just  such  crops  of  thoughts  as  he  sows  the  seeds  of, 
and  he  would  treat  my  other  thoughts  like  weeds,  which  must 
be  hoed  out,  cut  down  and  burned.  Then  you  see  he  hasn't 
;/  me  a  home,  and  I'm  growing  to  be  a  woman.  If  I  am 
old  enough  to  own  land,  am  I  never  to  be  old  enough  to 
own  myself?  " 


6  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Dar  now,  Miss  Lou,  you  raisin'  mo'  questions  dan  I  kin 
tink  cut  in  a  yeah." 

"  There's  dozens  more  rising  in  my  mind  and  I  can't  get 
rid  of  them.  Aunt  keeps  my  hands  knitting  and  working  for 
the  soldiers,  and  I  like  to  do  it.  I'd  like  to  be  a  soldier  myself, 
for  then  I  could  go  somewhere  and  do  and  see  something. 
Life  then  wouldn't  be  just  doing  things  with  my  hands  and 
being  told  to  think  exactly  what  an  old  gentleman  and  an 
old  lady  think.  Of  course  our  side  is  right  in  this  war,  but 
how  can  I  believe  with  uncle  that  nearly  all  the  people  in  the 
North  are  low,  wicked  and  vile  ?  The  idea  that  every  North- 
ern soldier  is  a  monster  is  preposterous  to  me.  Uncle  forgets 
that  he  has  had  me  taught  in  United  States  history.  I  wish 
some  of  them  would  just  march  by  this  out-of-the-way  place, 
for  I  would  like  to  see  for  myself  what  they  are  like." 

"Dar,  dar,  Miss  Lou,  you  gittin'  too  bumptious.  You 
like  de  fus'  woman  who  want  ter  know  too  much." 

"  No,"  said  the  girl,  her  blue  eyes  becoming  dark  and 
earnest,  "  I  want  to  know  what's  true,  what's  right.  I  can't 
believe  that  uncle  and  aunt's  narrow,  exclusive,  comfortless 
religion  came  from  heaven ;  I  can't  believe  that  God  agrees 
with  uncle  as  to  just  what  a  young  girl  should  do  and  think 
and  be,  but  uncle  seems  to  think  that  the  wickedest  thing  I 
can  do  is  to  disagree  with  him  and  aunt.  Uncle  forgets  that 
there  are  books  in  his  library,  and  books  make  one  think. 
They  tell  of  life  very  different  from  mine.  Why,  Aun'  Jinkey, 
just  think  what  a  lonely  girl  I  am  !  You  are  about  the  only 
one  I  can  talk  to.  Our  neighbors  are  so  far  away  and  we 
live  so  secluded  that  I  scarcely  have  acquaintances  of  my 
own  age.  Aunt  thinks  young  girls  should  be  kept  out  of 
society  until  the  proper  time,  and  that  time  seems  no  nearer 
now  than  ever.  If  uncle  and  aunt  loved  me,  it  would  be 
different,  but  they  have  just  got  a  stiff  set  of  ideas  about  their 
duty  to  me  and  another  set  about  my  duty  to  them.     Why, 


A    GIRVS  PROTEST.  7 

uncle  laughed  at  a  kitten  the  other  day  because  it  was  kit- 
tenish, but  he  has  always  wanted  me  to  behave  with  the 
solemnity  of  an  old  cat.  Oh,  dear  !  I'm  so  tired.  I  wish 
something  would  happen." 

"  Hit  brokes  me  all  up  ter  year  you  talk  so,  honey,  en  I 
bless  de  Lawd  'tain'  likely  anyting  gwinter  hap'n  in  dese  yere 
parts.  De  wah  am  ragin'  way  off  fum  heah,  nobody  comin' 
wid  news,  en  bimeby  you  gits  mo'  settle  down.  Some  day 
you  know  de  valley  ob  peace  en  quietness." 

"See  here,  Aun'  Jinkey,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  flash  of  her 
eyes,  "  you  know  the  little  pond  off  in  the  woods.  That's 
more  peaceful  than  the  run,  isn't  it?  Well,  it's  stagnant, 
too,  and  full  of  snakes.  I'd  like  to  know  what's  going  on  in 
the  world,  but  uncle  of  late  does  not  even  let  me  read  the 
county  paper.  I  know  things  are  not  going  to  suit  him, 
for  he  often  frowns  and  throws  the  paper  into  the  fire. 
That's  what  provokes  me  —  the  whole  world  must  go  just  to 
suit  him,  or  else  he  is  angry." 

"  Well,  now,  honey,  you  hab  'lieve  yo'  min',  en  I  specs 
you  feel  bettah.  You  mus'  des  promis  yo'  ole  mammy  dat 
you  be  keerful  en  not  rile  up  ole  mars'r,  kase  hit'll  ony  be 
harder  fer  you.  I'se  ole,  en  I  knows  tings  do  hap'n'  dough 
dey  of 'un  come  slowlike.  You  des  gwine  troo  de  woods 
now,  en  kyant  see  fur;  bimeby  you  come  ter  a  clearin'. 
Dat  boy  ob  mine  be  comin'  soon  fer  his  pone  en  bacon.  I'se 
gwinter  do  a  heap  ob  tinkin'  on  all  de  questions  you  riz." 

"  Yes,  Aun'  Jinkey,  I  do  feel  better  for  speaking  out,  but 
I  expect  I  shall  do  a  heap  of  thinking  too.  Good-by,"  and 
she  strolled  away  towards  the  brook. 


" MISS  LOU." 


CHAPTER  II. 

SOMETHING  HAPPENS. 

IT  was  a  moody  little  stream  which  Miss  Lou  was  following. 
She  did  not  go  far  before  she  sat  down  on  a  rock  and 
watched  the  murmuring  waters  glide  past,  conscious  mean- 
time of  a  vague  desire  to  go  with  them  into  the  unknown. 
She  was  not  chafing  so  much  at  the  monotony  of  her  life  as 
at  its  restrictions,  its  negation  of  all  pleasing  realities,  and 
the  persistent  pressure  upon  her  attention  of  a  formal  round 
of  duties  and  more  formal  and  antiquated  circle  of  thoughts. 
Only  as  she  stole  away  into  solitudes  like  the  one  in  which 
she  now  sat  dreaming  could  she  escape  from  the  hard  mate- 
rialism of  routine,  and  chiding  for  idleness  usually  followed. 
Her  aunt,  with  an  abundance  of  slaves  at  her  command, 
could  have  enjoyed  much  leisure,  yet  she  was  fussily  and 
constantly  busy,  and  the  young  girl  could  not  help  feeling 
that  much  which  she  was  expected  to  do  was  a  mere  waste 
of  time.  . 

The  serene  beauty  of  the  evening,  the  songs  of  the  mock- 
ing and  other  birds,  were  not  without  their  effect,  however, 
and  she  said  aloud  :  "  I  might  be  very  happy  even  here  if, 
like  the  birds,  I  had  the  heart  to  sing,  —  and  I  would  sing 
if  I  truly  lived  and  had  something  to  live  for." 

The  sun  was  approaching  the  horizon,  and  she  was  rising 
wearily  and  reluctantly  to  return  when  she  heard  the  report 
of  firearms,  followed  by  the  sound  of  swiftly  galloping  horses. 
Beyond  the  brook,  on  the  margin  of  which  she  stood,  rose  a 


SOMETHING  HAPPENS.  9 

precipitous  bank  overhung  with  vines  and  bushes,  and  a  few 
rods  further  back  was  a  plantation  road  descending  towards 
a  wide  belt  of  forest.  A  thick  copse  and  growth  of  young 
trees  ran  from  the  top  of  the  bank  towards  the  road,  hiding 
from  her  vision  that  portion  of  the  lane  from  which  the  sounds 
were  approaching.  Suddenly  half  a  dozen  cavalrymen,  whom 
she  knew  to  be  Federals  from  their  blue  uniforms,  galloped 
into  view  and  passed  on  in  the  direction  of  the  forest.  One 
of  the  group  turned  his  horse  sharply  behind  the  concealing 
copse  and  spurred  directly  towards  her.  She  had  only  time 
to  throw  up  her  hands  and  utter  an  involuntary  cry  of  warn- 
ing about  the  steep  bank,  when  the  horse  sprang  through  the 
treacherous  shrubbery  and  fell  headlong  into  the  stream.  The 
rider  saw  his  peril,  withdrew  his  feet  from  the  stirrups,  and 
in  an  instinctive  effort  for  self-preservation,  threw  himself 
forward,  falling  upon  the  sand  almost  at  the  young  girl's  feet. 
He  uttered  a  groan,  shivered,  and  became  insensible.  A 
moment  or  two  later  a  band  in  gray  galloped  by  wholly  intent 
upon  the  Federals,  who  had  disappeared  spurring  for  the 
woods,  and  she  recognized  her  cousin,  Madison  Whately, 
leading  the  pursuit.  Neither  he,  nor  any  of  his  party,  looked 
her  way,  and  it  was  evident  that  the  Union  soldier  who  had 
so  abruptly  diverged  from  the  road  behind  the  screening 
copse  had  not  been  discovered.  The  sounds  died  away  as 
speedily  as  they  had  approached,  and  all  became  still  again. 
The  startled  birds  resumed  their  songs :  the  injured  horse 
moved  feebly,  and  the  girl  saw  that  it  was  bleeding  from  a 
wound,  but  the  man  at  her  feet  did  not  stir.  Truly  some- 
thing had  happened.  What  should  she  do?  Breaking  the 
paralysis  of  her  fear  and  astonishment,  she  stepped  to  the 
brook,  gathered  up  water  in  her  hands,  and  dashed  it  into 
the  face  of  the  unconscious  man.  It  had  no  effect.  "  Can 
he  be  dead  ?  "  she  asked  herself  in  horror.  He  was  as  pale 
as  his  bronzed  features  could  become,  and  her  woman's  soul 


10  "M/SS  LOU." 

was  touched  that  one  who  looked  so  strong,  who  had  been  so 
vital  a  moment  before,  should  now  lie  there  in  pathetic  and 
appealing  helplessness.  Was  that  fine,  manly  face  the  visage 
of  one  of  the  terrible,  bloodthirsty,  unscrupulous  Yankees  ? 
Even  as  she  ran  to  Aun'  Jinkey's  cottage  for  help  the  thought 
crossed  her  mind  that  the  world  was  not  what  it  had  been 
represented  to  her,  and  that  she  must  learn  to  think  and  act 
for  herself. 

As  she  approached,  Chunk,  Aun'  Jinkey's  grandson,  ap- 
peared coming  from  the  mansion  house.  He  was  nick- 
named "  Chunk  "  from  his  dwarfed  stature  and  his  stout, 
powerful  build.  Miss  Lou  put  her  finger  to  her  lips, 
glanced  hastily  around,  and  led  the  way  into  the  cabin. 
She  hushed  their  startled  exclamations  as  she  told  her  story, 
and  then  said,  "Aun'  Jinkey,  if  he's  alive,  you  must  hide 
him  in  your  loft  there  where  Chunk  sleeps.  Come  with 
me." 

In  a  few  moments  all  three  were  beside  the  unconscious 
form.  Chunk  instantly  slipped  his  hand  inside  the  soldier's 
vest  over  his  heart.  "  Hit  done  beats,"  he  said,  quickly, 
and  without  further  hesitation  he  lifted  the  man  as  if  he  had 
been  a  child,  bore  him  safely  to  the  cabin,  and  laid  him  on 
Aun'  Jinkey's  bed.  "  Hi,  granny,  whar  dat  hot  stuff  you  gib 
me  fer  de  belly  misery?  " 

Aun'  Jinkey  had  already  found  a  bottle  containing  a  de- 
coction of  the  wild  ginger  root,  and  with  pewter  spoon  forced 
some  of  the  liquid  into  the  man's  mouth.  He  struggled 
slightly  and  began  to  revive.  At  last  he  opened  his  eyes 
and  looked  with  an  awed  expression  at  the  young  girl  who 
stood  at  the  foot  of  the  bed. 

"  I  hope  you  feel  better  now,"  she  said,  kindly. 

"  Are  you  —  am  I  alive  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Dar  now,  mars'r,  you  isn't  in  heb'n  yet,  dough  Miss  Lou, 
standin'  dar,  mout  favor  de  notion.     Des  you  took   anoder 


SOMETHING  HAPPENS.  II 

swaller  ob  dis  ginger-tea,  en  den  you  see  me'n  Chunk  ain' 
angels." 

Chunk  grinned  and  chuckled.  "  Neber  was  took  fer  one 
in  my  bawn  days." 

The  young  man  did  as  he  was  bidden,  then  turned  his 
eyes  wistfully  and  questioningly  from  the  two  dark  visages 
back  to  the  girl's  sympathetic  face. 

"You  remember,"  she  said,  "you  were  being  chased,  and 
turned  your  horse  towards  a  steep  bank,  which  you  didn't 
see,  and  fell." 

"  Ah,  yes,  —  it's  all  growing  clear.  You  were  the  woman 
I  caught  a  glimpse  of." 

She  nodded  and  said  :  "  I  must  go  now,  or  some  one  will 
come  looking  for  me.  I  won't  speak  —  tell  about  this.  I'm 
not  on  your  side,  but  I'm  not  going  to  get  a  helpless  man 
into  more  trouble.  You  may  trust  Aun'  Jinkey  and  her 
grandson." 

"  Dat  you  kin,  mars'r,"  Chunk  ejaculated  with  peculiar 
emphasis. 

"  God  bless  you,  then,  for  a  woman  who  has  a  heart.  I'm 
quite  content  that  you're  not  an  angel,"  and  a  smile  so  lighted 
up  the  soldier's  features  that  she  thought  she  had  never  seen 
a  pleasanter  looking  man. 

Worried  indeed  that  she  was  returning  so  much  later  than 
usual,  she  hastened  homeward.  Halfway  up  the  path  to 
the  house  she  met  a  tall,  slender  negro  girl,  who  exclaimed, 
"  Hi,  Miss  Lou,  ole  miss  des  gettin'  'stracted  'bout  you,  en 
mars'r  sez  ef  you  ain'  at  supper  in  five  minits  he's  gwine 
down  to  Aun'  Jinkey  en  know  what  she  mean,  meckin'  sech 
'sturbence  in  de  fambly." 

"  How  absurd  !  "  thought  the  girl.  '*  Being  a  little  late  is 
a  disturbance  in  the  family."  But  she  hastened  on,  followed 
by  the  girl,  who  was  employed  in  the  capacity  of  waitress. 
This  girl,  Zany  by  name,  resented  in  accordance  with  her 


12  "MISS  LOU." 

own  ideas  and  character  the  principle  of  repression  which 
dominated  the  household.  She  threw  a  kiss  towards  the 
cabin  under  the  trees  and  shook  with  silent  laughter  as  she 
muttered,  "  Dat  fer  you,  Chunk.  You  de  beat'nst  nigger  I 
eber  see.  You  mos'  ez  bro'd  ez  I  is  high,  yit  you'se  reachin' 
arter  me.  I  des  like  ter  kill  mysef  lafin'  wen  we  dance 
tergeder,"  and  she  indulged  in  a  jig-step  and  antics  behind 
Miss  Lou's  back  until  she  came  in  sight  of  the  windows,  then 
appeared  as  if  following  a  hearse. 

Miss  Lou  entered  the  rear  door  of  the  long,  two- story 
house,  surrounded  on  three  sides  by  a  wide  piazza.  Mr. 
Baron,  a  stout,  bald-headed  old  gentleman,  was  fuming  up 
and  down  the  dining-room  while  his  wife  sat  in  grim  silence 
at  the  foot  of  the  table.  It  was  evident  that  they  had  made 
stiff,  old-fashioned  toilets,  and  both  looked  askance  at  the 
flushed  face  of  the  almost  breathless  girl,  still  in  her  simple 
morning  costume.  Before  she  could  speak  her  uncle  said, 
severely,  "  Since  we  have  waited  so  long,  we  will  still  wait  till 
you  can  dress." 

The  girl  was  glad  to  escape  to  her  room  in  order  that  she 
might  have  time  to  frame  some  excuse  before  she  faced  the 
inquisition  in  store  for  her. 

Constitutional  traits  often  assert  themselves  in  a  manner 
contrary  to  the  prevailing  characteristics  of  a  region.  Instead 
of  the  easy-going  habits  of  life  common  to  so  many  of  his 
neighbors,  Mr.  Baron  was  a  martinet  by  nature,  and  the 
absence  of  large,  engrossing  duties  permitted  his  mind  to 
dwell  on  little  things  and  to  exaggerate  them  out  of  all  pro- 
portion. Indeed,  it  was  this  utter  lack  of  perspective  in  his 
views  and  judgments  which  created  for  Miss  Lou  half  her 
trouble.  The  sin  of  tardiness  which  she  had  just  committed 
was  treated  like  a  great  moral  transgression,  or  rather  it  was 
so  frowned  upon  that  it  were  hard  to  say  how  he  could  show 
his  displeasure  at  a  more  heinous  offence.    The  one  thought 


SOMETHING  HAPPENS.  1 3 

now  in  Mr.  Baron's  mind  was  that  the  sacred  routine  of  the 
day  had  been  broken.  Often  there  are  no  greater  devotees 
to  routine  than  those  who  are  virtually  idlers.  Endowed  with 
the  gift  of  persistence  rather  than  with  a  resolute  will,  it  had 
become  second  nature  to  maintain  the  daily  order  of  action 
and  thought  which  he  believed  to  be  his  right  to  enforce 
upon  his  household.  Every  one  chafed  under  his  inexorable 
system  except  his  wife.  She  had  married  when  young,  had 
grown  up  into  it,  and  supplemented  it  with  a  system  of  her 
own  which  took  the  form  of  a  scrupulous  and  periodical 
attention  to  all  little  details  of  housekeeping.  There  was  a 
constant  friction,  therefore,  between  the  careless,  indolent 
natures  of  the  slaves  and  the  precise,  exacting  requirements 
of  both  master  and  mistress.  Miss  Lou,  as  she  was  gener- 
ally called  on  the  plantation,  had  grown  up  into  this  rou- 
tine as  a  flower  blooms  in  a  stiff  old  garden,  and  no  amount 
of  repression,  admonition  and  exhortation,  not  even  in  her 
younger  days  of  punishment,  could  quench  her  spirit  or 
benumb  her  mind.  She  submitted,  she  yielded,  with  vary- 
ing degrees  of  grace  or  reluctance.  As  she  increased  in 
years,  her  thoughts,  as  we  have  seen,  were  verging  more  and 
more  on  the  border  of  rebellion.  But  the  habit  of  obedience 
and  submission  still  had  its  influence.  Moreover,  there  had 
been  no  strong  motive  and  little  opportunity  for  independent 
action.  Hoping  not  even  for  tolerance,  much  less  for 
sympathy,  she  kept  her  thoughts  to  herself,  except  as  she 
occasionally  relieved  her  mind  to  her  old  mammy,  Aun' 
Jinkey. 

She  came  into  the  dining-room  hastily  at  last,  but  the 
expression  of  her  face  was  impassive  and  inscrutable.  She 
was  received  in  solemn  silence,  broken  at  first  only  by  the 
long  formal  grace  which  Mr.  Baron  never  omitted  and  never 
varied.  In  her  rebellious  mood  the  girl  thought,  "  What 
a  queer  God  it  would  be  if  he  were  pleased  with  this  old 


14  "MISS  LOU." 

cut-and-dried  form  of  words !  All  the  time  uncle's  saying 
them  he  is  thinking  how  he'll  show  me  his  displeasure." 

Mr.  Baron  evidently  concluded  that  his  best  method  at 
first  would  be  an  expression  of  offended  dignity,  and  the 
mmeal  began  in  depressing  silence,  which  Mrs.  Baron  was 
naturally  the  first  to  break.  "  It  must  be  evident  to  you, 
Louise,"  she  said  in  a  thin,  monotonous  voice, "  that  the  time 
has  come  for  you  to  consider  and  revise  your  conduct.  The 
fact  that  your  uncle  has  been  kept  waiting  for  his  supper  is 
only  one  result  of  an  unhappy  change  which  I  have  observed, 
but  have  forborne  to  speak  of  in  the  hope  that  your  own 
conscience  and  the  influence  of  your  past  training  would 
lead  you  to  consider  and  conform.  Think  of  the  precious 
moments,  indeed  I  may  say  hours,  that  you  have  wasted 
this  afternoon  in  idle  converse  with  an  old  negress  who  is  no 
fit  companion  for  you  !     You  are  becoming  too  old  —  " 

"  Too  old,  aunt  ?  Do  you  at  last  recognize  the  fact  that 
I  am  growing  older?" 

With  a  faint  expression  of  surprise  dawning  in  her  impas- 
sive face  Mrs.  Baron  continued :  "  Yes,  old  enough  to 
remember  yourself  and  not  to  be  compelled  to  recognize 
the  duties  of  approaching  womanhood.  I  truly  begin  to 
feel  that  I  must  forbid  these  visits  to  an  old,  ignorant  and 
foolish  creature  whose  ideas  are  totally  at  variance  with  all 
that  is  proper  and  right." 

"  Uncle  thinks  I  have  approached  womanhood  sufficiently 
near  to  know  something  of  my  business  affairs,  and  even 
went  so  far  as  to  suggest  his  project  of  marrying  me  to  my 
cousin  in  order  to  unite  in  sacred  —  I  mean  legal  bonds  the 
two  plantations." 

The  two  old  people  looked  at  each  other,  then  stared  at 
their  niece,  who,  with  hot  face,  maintained  the  pretence  of 
eating  her  supper.  "Truly,  Louise,"  began  Mr.  Baron, 
solemnly,  "you  are   indulging  in  strange  and  unbecoming 


SOMETHING  HAPPENS  I  5 

language.  I  have  revealed  to  you  your  pecuniary  affairs, 
and  I  have  more  than  once  suggested  an  alliance  which  is  in 
accordance  with  our  wishes  and  your  interests,  in  order  to 
prove  to  you  how  scrupulous  we  are  in  promoting  your  wel- 
fare. We  look  for  grateful  recognition  and  a  wise,  persistent 
effort  on  your  part  to  further  our  efforts  in  your  behalf." 

"  It  doesn't  seem  to  me  wise  to  talk  to  a  mere  child  about 
property  and  marriage,"  said  the  girl,  breathing  quickly  in 
the  consciousness  of  her  temerity  and  her  rising  spirit  of 
rebellion. 

"  You  are  ceasing  to  be  a  mere  child,"  resumed  her  uncle, 
severely. 

"  That  cannot  be,"  Miss  Lou  interrupted.  "  You  and 
aunt  speak  to  me  as  you  did  years  ago  when  I  was  a  child. 
Can  you  expect  me  to  have  a  woman's  form  and  not  a 
woman's  mind?  Are  women  told  exactly  what  they  must 
think  and  do,  like  little  children?  Aunt  threatens  to  forbid 
visits  to  my  old  mammy.  If  I  were  but  five  years  old  she 
couldn't  do  more.  You  speak  of  marrying  me  to  my  cousin 
as  if  I  had  merely  the  form  and  appearance  of  a  woman,  and 
no  mind  or  wishes  of  my  own.  I  have  never  said  I  wanted 
to  marry  him  or  any  one." 

"Why,  Louise,  you  are  verging  towards  flat  rebellion," 
gasped  her  uncle,  laying  down  his  knife  and  fork. 

"  Oh,  no,  uncle  !  I'm  merely  growing  up.  You  should 
have  kept  the  library  locked  ;  you  should  never  have  had  me 
taught  to  read,  if  you  expected  me  to  become  the  mere  shell 
of  a  woman,  having  no  ideas  of  my  own." 

"  We  wish  you  to  have  ideas,  and  have  tried  to  inculcate 
right  ideas." 

"  Which  means  only  your  ideas,  uncle." 

"  Louise,  are  you  losing  your  mind  ?  " 

"  No,  uncle,  I  am  beginning  to  find  it,  and  that  I  have  a 
right  to  use  it.     I  am  willing  to  pay  all  due  respect  and 


1 6  "MISS  LOU." 

deference  to  you  and  to  aunt,  but  I  protest  against  being 
treated  as  a  child  on  one  hand  and  as  a  wax  figure  which 
can  be  stood  up  and  married  to  anybody  on  the  other. 
I  have  patiently  borne  this  treatment  as  long  as  I  can,  and  I 
now  reckon  the  time  has  come  to  end  it." 

Mr.  Baron  was  thunderstruck  and  his  wife  was  feeling  for 
her  smelling-bottle.  Catching  a  glimpse  of  Zany,  where  she 
stood  open-mouthed  in  her  astonishment,  her  master  said, 
sternly,  "  Leave  the  room  !  "  Then  he  added  to  his  niece, 
"  Think  of  your  uttering  such  wild  talk  before  one  of  our 
people  !  Don't  you  know  that  my  will  must  be  law  on  this 
plantation  ?  " 

"  I'm  not  one  of  your  people,"  responded  the  girl, 
haughtily.  "  I'm  your  niece,  and  a  Southern  girl  who  will 
call  no  man  master." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door.  Without 
waiting  for  it  to  be  opened,  a  tall,  lank  man  entered  and  said, 
hastily,  "  Mr.  Baron,  I  reckon  there's  news  which  yer  orter 
hear  toreckly."     He  was  the  overseer  of  the  plantation. 


MAD    WHATELY.  \] 


CHAPTER   III. 


MAD   WHATELY. 


R.  BARON  was  one  of  the  few  of  the  landed  gentry  in 
IV J.  the  region  who  was  not  known  by  a  military  title,  and 
he  rather  prided  himself  on  the  fact.  "  I'm  a  man  of  peace," 
he  was  accustomed  to  say,  and  his  neighbors  often  remarked, 
"  Yes,  Baron  is  peaceable  if  he  has  his  own  way  in  every  thing, 
but  there's  no  young  blood  in  the  county  more  ready  for  a 
fray  than  he  for  a  lawsuit."  "Law  and  order"  was  Mr. 
Baron's  motto,  but  by  these  terms  he  meant  the  perpetuity 
of  the  conditions  under  which  he  and  his  ancestors  had  thus 
far  lived.  To  distrust  these  conditions  was  the  crime  of 
crimes.  In  his  estimation,  therefore,  a  Northern  soldier  was 
a  monster  surpassed  only  by  the  out-and-out  abolitionist. 
While  it  had  so  happened  that,  even  as  a  young  man,  his 
tastes  had  been  legal  rather  than  military,  he  regarded  the 
war  of  secession  as  more  sacred  than  any  conflict  of  the 
past,  and  was  willing  to  make  great  sacrifices  for  its  main- 
tenance. He  had  invested  all  his  funds  as  well  as  those  of 
his  niece  in  Confederate  bonds,  and  he  had  annually  con- 
tributed a  large  portion  of  the  product  of  his  lands  to  the  sup- 
port of  the  army.  Living  remote  from  the  scenes  of  actual 
strife,  he  had  been  able  to  maintain  his  illusions  and  hopes 
to  a  far  greater  extent  than  many  others  of  like  mind  with 
himself;  but  as  the  war  drew  towards  its  close,  even  the 
few  newspapers  he  read  were  compelled  to  justify  their 
name  in  some  degree  by  giving  very  unpalatable  information. 


1 8  "MISS  LOU." 

As  none  are  so  blind  as  those  who  will  not  see,  the  old  man 
had  testily  pooh-poohed  at  what  he  termed  "temporary 
reverses,"  and  his  immunity  from  disturbance  had  confirmed 
his  belief  that  the  old  order  of  things  could  not  materially 
change.  True,  some  of  his  slaves  had  disappeared,  but  he 
had  given  one  who  had  been  caught  such  a  lesson  that  the 
rest  had  remained  quiet  if  not  contented. 

The  news  brought  by  his  overseer  became  therefore  more 
disturbing  than  the  strange  and  preposterous  conduct  of  his 
niece,  and  he  had  demanded  excitedly,  "What  on  earth's 
the  matter,  Perkins  ?  " 

"  Well,  sir,  fur's  I  kin  mek  out,  this  very  plantation's  been 
p'luted  by  Yankee  soldiers  this  very  evenin'.     Yes,  sir." 

"  Great  heavens  !  Perkins,"  and  Mr.  Baron  sprung  from 
his  chair,  then  sank  back  again  with  an  expression  suggest- 
ing that  if  the  earth  opened  next  it  could  not  be  worse. 

"Yes,  sir,"  resumed  Perkins,  solemnly,  "  I  drawed  that 
much  from  Jute.  He  seen  'em  hisself.  I  noticed  a  s'pressed 
'citement  en  talk  in  the  quarters  this  evenin',  an'  I  follered 
hit  right  up  an'  I  ast  roun'  till  I  pinned  Jute.  He  was  over 
the  fur  side  of  the  run  lookin'  fur  a  stray  crow,  an'  he  seen 
'em.  But  they  was  bein'  chased  lively.  Mad  Whately  — 
beg  pardon  —  Mr.  Madison  was  arter  them  with  whip  and 
spur.  Didn't  yer  hear  a  crack  of  a  rifle  ?  I  did,  and  reck- 
oned it  was  one  o'  the  Simcoe  boys  out  gunnin',  but  Jute 
says  hit  was  one  o'  our  men  fired  the  shot,  en  that  they 
chased  the  Yanks  to'erds  the  big  woods.  They  was  all 
mounted  en  goin'  it  lickity  switch.  The  thing  that  sticks  in 
my  crop  isn't  them  few  what  Mr.  Madison  chased,  but  the 
main  body  they  belongs  to.  Looks  as  ef  there's  goin'  to  be 
a  raid  down  our  way." 

"  If  that  is  so,"  said  Mr.  Baron,  majestically,  "  Lieutenant 
Whately  proves  that  our  brave  men  are  not  far  off,  either, 
and  the  way  he  chased  some  of  them  shows  how  all  the  vile 


MAD    WHATELY.  1 9 

invaders  will  eventually  be  driven  out  of  the  country.  Be 
vigilant,  Perkins,  and  let  it  be  understood  at  the  quarters 
that  Lieutenant  Whately  is  within  call." 

The  overseer  bowed  awkwardly  and  limped  away.  His 
lameness  had  secured  him  immunity  from  military  duty. 

"  Ah,  that's  a  man  for  you,"  said  Mr.  Baron,  glaring  at 
his  niece.  "  Your  cousin  is  a  true  scion  of  Southern  chivalry. 
That  is  the  kind  of  a  man  you  do  not  know  whether  you 
wish  to  marry  or  not  —  a  brave  defender  of  our  hearths  and 
liberties." 

"  If  he  wishes  to  marry  me  against  my  will,  he's  not  a 
defender  of  my  liberty,"  retorted  the  girl. 

"  If  you  had  the  spirit  which  should  be  your  birthright 
your  eyes  would  flash  with  joy  at  the  prospect  of  seeing  a 
hero  who  could  thus  chase  your  enemies  from  our  soil.  If 
you  could  only  have  seen  him  in  his  headlong  —  " 

"  I  did  see  him." 

"What!" 

"  I  saw  Cousin  Madison  leading  a  dozen  or  more  men  in 
pursuit  of  half  a  dozen.  That  does  not  strike  me  as  sub- 
limely heroic." 

"  Why  haven't  you  told  me  of  this  ?  How  could  you  have 
seen  him?"  and  the  old  man,  in  his  strong  excitement,  rose 
from  his  chair. 

"  My  reception  when  I  entered  was  not  conducive  to 
conversation.  I  was  merely  sitting  by  the  run  and  saw  both 
parties  gallop  past." 

"  You  should  have  come  instantly  to  me." 

"  I'm  sure  I  came  in  hastily,"  she  replied,  crimsoning 
in  the  consciousness  of  her  secret,  "  but  I  was  met  as  if  I 
had  been  guilty  of  something  awful." 

"  Well,  if  I  had  known,"  began  her  uncle,  in  some  con- 
fusion, mistaking  her  color  for  an  expression  of  anger. 

"  I  think,"  remarked  her  aunt,  coldly,  "  that  Louise  should 


20  "MISS  LOU." 

have  recognized  that  she  had  given  you  just  cause  for  dis- 
pleasure by  her  tardiness,  unless  it  were  explained,  and  she 
should  have  explained  at  once.  I  have  no  patience  with 
the  spirit  she  is  displaying." 

But  Mr.  Baron's  mind  had  been  diverted  to  more  serious 
and  alarming  considerations  than  what  he  characterized 
mentally  as  "  a  girl's  tantrum." 

"  It  makes  my  blood  boil,"  he  said,  "  to  think  that  this 
Northern  scum  is  actually  in  our  neighborhood,  and  might 
be  at  our  doors  but  for  my  brave  nephew.  Thanks  to  him, 
they  met  a  righteous  reception  on  this  plantation ;  thanks  to 
him,  in  all  probability,  we  are  not  now  weltering  in  our 
blood,  with  the  roof  that  shelters  us  blazing  over  our  heads. 
If  those  marauders  had  found  us  unprotected,  young  woman, 
you  would  have  rued  the  day.  Their  capacity  for  evil  is 
only  equalled  by  their  opportunities.  If  your  cousin  had 
not  flamed  after  them  like  an  avenging  sword  you  might 
have  cried  loudly  enough  for  the  one  of  whom,  in  your  fit 
of  unseemly  petulance,  you  can  speak  so  slightingly.  I 
advise  you  to  go  to  your  room  and  thank  Heaven  for  your 
escape." 

"  Uncle,  are  the  people  of  the  North  savages?  " 

"  Its  soldiers  are  worse  than  savages.  Have  you  not 
heard  me  express  my  opinion  of  them  over  and  over  again? 
Go  to  your  room,  and  when  you  appear  again,  I  trust  it  will 
be  with  the  meekness  and  submission  becoming  in  a  young 
woman." 

When  the  girl  left  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin  the  young  soldier 
looked  after  her  with  an  expression  of  deep  interest.  "  Who 
is  she  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  Dat's  Miss  Lou,"  said  the  old  negress,  forcing  into  his 
mouth  another  spoonful  of  her  fiery  decoction. 

"  Oh,  that's  enough,  aunty,  unless  you  wish  to  burn  me 
out  like  a  hollow  log,"  and  he  struggled  to  his  feet  to  ease 


MAD    WUATELY.  21 

his  tendency  to  strangle.  "  Miss  Lou  ?  How  should  I 
know  who  she  is?" 

"  Ob  co'se,"  said  Aun'  Jinkey,  dryly,  "I  ain'  namin'  her 
pedigree." 

"  You  a  Linkum  man,  ain'  you?  "  Chunk  asked,  quickly. 

"  Yes,  and  Lincoln  is  a  good  friend  of  yours." 

"  Hi !  I  knows  dat.  Wat  fer  you  so  hidin'-in-de-grass, 
granny?     No  use  bein'  dat  away  wid  a  Linkum  man." 

"  I  ain'  talkin'  'bout  my  young  mistis  to  folks  ez  drap 
down  fum  de  clouds." 

"  You  wouldn't  like  me  better  if  I  came  up  from  below, 
aunty.  There  now,  I'm  not  a  very  bad  fellow,  and  I  belong 
to  the  army  that's  going  to  make  you  all  free." 

"  I  hasn't  des  tink  out  dis  question  ob  bein'  free  yit.  I'se 
too  ole  to  wuk  much  an'  old  mars'r's  took  keer  on  me  long 
time." 

"  Well,  I'se  tink  it  out,"  put  in  Chunk,  decidedly ;  "  en 
I'se  able  to  wuk  fer  you  en  me  too." 

"  You  mighty  peart,  Chunk,  co'tin'  a  gal  like  a  bean-pole 
a'ready.  I  reck'n  she  spen'  all  you  eber  mek.  You  bettah 
boos'  de  Linkum  man  inter  dat  ar  loP  sud'n,  kase  ef  Marse 
Perkins  cotch  'im  yere  we  all  ain'  feelin'  berry  good 
bimeby." 

"Dat  artruer'n  preachin',"  admitted  Chunk, with  alacrity. 
"  Des  you  tek  hoi'  ob  dem  ladder  rouns,  mars'r,  an'  put  yo' 
foots  on  my  sho'lers.  Dat's  hit.  Nobody  tink  ob  fin'in'  you 
yere.  I'se  study  how  ter  git  yo'  hoss  out  ob  sight  'gin 
mawnin'." 

"You  stand  by  me,  Chunk,"  said  the  soldier,  "and  you 
won't  be  sorry.  There's  a  lot  of  us  coming  this  way  soon, 
and  I  can  be  a  good  friend  of  yours  and  all  your  people  if 
you  help  me  out  of  this  scrape." 

"  I'se  gwine  ter  stan'  by  you,  boss.  I'se  mek  up  my  min' 
ter  be  free  dis  time,  sho  !     Hi !  w'at  dat?" 


22  "MISS  LOU." 

He  was  wonderfully  agile,  for  his  arms  were  nearly  as  long 
as  his  legs.  In  an  instant  he  descended,  drawing  a  trap- 
door after  him.  Then  he  sauntered  to  the  door,  which  he 
opened  wide.  A  troop  of  horsemen  were  coming  single  file 
by  a  path  which  led  near  the  cabin,  and  the  foremost  asked 
in  a  voice  which  the  negro  recognized  as  that  of  Lieutenant 
Whately,  "Is  that  you,  Chunk?" 

"  Dat's  me,  mars'r.     My  'specs." 

"Be  off,  you  skeleton.  Make  time  for  the  house  and 
help  get  supper  for  me  and  the  men.  If  you  don't  run  like 
a  red  deer,  I'll  ride  you  down. 

"  Good  Lawd  !  w'at  gwine  ter  hap'n  nex'  ? "  groaned 
Chunk,  as  he  disappeared  towards  the  mansion.  He  burst 
like  a  bomb-shell  into  the  kitchen,  a  small  building  in  the 
rear  of  the  house. 

"Did  you  eber  see  de  likes?"  exclaimed  Zany.  "Whar 
yo'  manners  "  — 

"  Hi,  dar  !  talk  'bout  manners  !  Marse  Whately  comin' 
wid  a  army,  en  want  supper  fer  um  all  in  des  one  minute  en 
er  haf  by  de  clock  ! " 

Great,  fat  Aun'  Suke  threw  up  her  hands  in  despair,  and 
in  the  brief  silence  the  tramp  of  horses  and  the  jingling  of 
sabres  were  plainly  heard.  They  all  knew  Mad  Whately, 
and  it  needed  not  that  Mrs.  Baron,  desperately  flurried, 
should  bustle  in  a  few  moments  later  with  orders  that  all 
hands  should  fly  around.  "What  you  doing  here?"  she 
asked  Chunk,  sharply. 

"  I'se  here  ter  hep,  mistis.  Dem's  my  orders  from  Marse 
Whately.     He  come  ridin'  by  granny's." 

"  Then  go  and  kill  chickens." 

A  few  moments  later  the  dolorous  outcry  of  fowls  was 
added  to  the  uproar  made  by  the  barking  dogs. 

With  a  chill  of  fear  Miss  Lou,  in  her  chamber,  recognized 
her  cousin's  voice,  and  knew  that  he,  with  his  band,  had 


MAD    WIIATELY.  2X 

come  to  claim  hospitality  at  his  uncle's  hands.  What  com- 
plications did  his  presence  portend?  Truly,  the  long  months 
of  monotony  on  the  old  plantation  were  broken  now.  What 
the  end  would  be  she  dared  not  think,  but  for  the  moment 
her  spirit  exulted  in  the  excitement  which  would  at  least 
banish  stagnation. 

In  his  secret  heart  Mr.  Baron  had  hoped  that  his  nephew 
would  go  on  to  his  own  home,  a  few  miles  further ;  for 
applauding  him  as  a  hero  was  one  thing,  and  having  him 
turn  every  thing  upside  down  at  that  hour  another.  Routine 
and  order  were  scattered  to  the  winds  whenever  Mad 
Whately  made  his  appearance,  but  the  host's  second 
thoughts  led  him  to  remember  that  this  visitation  was 
infinitely  to  be  preferred  to  one  from  the  terrible  Yankees ; 
so  he  threw  wide  open  the  door,  and,  with  his  wife,  greeted 
his  nephew  warmly.  Then  he  shouted  for  Perkins  to  come 
and  look  after  the  horses. 

"Ah,  mine  uncle,"  cried  Whately,  "where  on  earth  is  to 
be  found  a  festive  board  like  yours?  Who  so  ready  to  fill 
the  flowing  bowl  until  even  the  rim  is  lost  to  sight,  when 
your  defenders  have  a  few  hours  to  spare  in  their  hard 
campaigning?  You  won't  entertain  angels  unawares  to- 
night. You'd  have  been  like  Daniel  in  the  den  with  none 
to  stop  the  lions'  mouths,  or  rather  the  jackals',  had  we  not 
appeared  on  the  scene.  The  Yanks  were  bearing  down  for 
you  like  the  wolf  on  the  fold.     Where's  my  pretty  cousin?" 

Mr.  Baron  had  opened  his  mouth  to  speak  several  times 
during  this  characteristic  greeting,  and  now  he  hastened  to 
the  foot  of  the  stairs  and  shouted,  "  Louise,  come  down  and 
help  your  aunt  entertain  our  guests."  Meanwhile  Whately 
stepped  to  the  sideboard  and  helped  himself  liberally  to  the 
sherry. 

"You  know  we  must  maintain  discipline,"  resumed 
Whately,  as  his  uncle  entered  the  dining-room.     "  The  night 


24  "MISS  LOU." 

is  mild  and  still.  Let  a  long  table  be  set  on  the  piazza  for 
my  men.  I  can  then  pledge  them  through  the  open  win- 
dow, for  since  I  give  them  such  hard  service,  I  must  make 
amends  when  I  can.  Ah,  Perkins,  have  your  people  rub  the 
horses  till  they  are  ready  to  prance,  then  feed  them  lightly, 
two  hours  later  a  heavier  feed,  that's  a  good  fellow  !  You 
were  born  under  a  lucky  star,  uncle.  You  might  now  be 
tied  up  by  your  thumbs,  while  the  Yanks  helped  them- 
selves." 

"  It  surely  was  a  kind  Providence  which  brought  you  here, 
nephew." 

"  No  doubt,  no  doubt ;  my  good  horse,  also,  and,  I  may 
add,  the  wish  to  see  my  pretty  cousin.  Ah  !  here  she  comes 
with  the  blushes  of  the  morning  on  her  cheeks,"  but  his 
warmer  than  a  cousinly  embrace  and  kiss  left  the  crimson  of 
anger  in  their  places. 

She  drew  herself  up  indignantly  to  her  full  height  and  said, 
"  We  have  been  discussing  the  fact  that  I  am  quite  grown 
up.     I  will  thank  you  to  note  the  change,  also." 

"Why,  so  I  do,"  he  replied,  regarding  her  with  undis- 
guised admiration ;  "  and  old  Father  Time  has  touched  you 
only  to  improve  you  in  every  respect." 

"Very  well,  then,"  she  replied,  coldly,  "I  cannot  help 
the  touch  of  Father  Time,  but  I  wish  it  understood  that  I 
am  no  longer  a  child." 

"  Neither  am  I,  sweet  cousin,  and  I  like  you  as  a  woman 
far  better." 

She  left  the  room  abruptly  to  assist  her  aunt. 

"  Jove  !  uncle,  but  she  has  grown  to  be  a  beauty.  How 
these  girls  blossom  out  when  their  time  comes  !  Can  it  be 
that  I  have  been  absent  a  year?  " 

"  Yes,  and  your  last  visit  was  but  a  flying  one." 

"  And  so  I  fear  this  one  must  be.  The  Yanks  are  on  the 
move,  perhaps  in  this  direction,  and  so  are  we.     It  was  one 


MAD    WHATELY.  25 

of  their  scouting  parties  that  we  ran  into.  Their  horses  were 
fresher  than  ours  and  they  separated  when  once  in  the  shadow 
of  the  woods.  They  won't  be  slow,  however,  in  leaving  these 
parts,  now  they  know  we  are  here.  I'm  going  to  take  a  little 
well-earned  rest  between  my  scoutings,  and  make  love  to  my 
cousin.  Olympian  humbugs  !  how  handsome  and  haughty 
she  has  become  !  I  didn't  think  the  little  minx  had  so  much 
spirit." 

"  She  has  suddenly  taken  the  notion  that,  since  she  is 
growing  up,  she  can  snap  her  fingers  at  all  the  powers  that 
be." 

"  Growing  up  !  Why,  uncle,  she's  grown,  and  ready  to 
hear  me  say,  '  With  all  my  worldly  goods  I  thee  endow.'  " 

"  But  the  trouble  is,  she  doesn't  act  as  if  very  ready." 

"  Oh,  tush  !  she  isn't  ready  to  throw  herself  at  the  head  of 
any  one.  That  isn't  the  way  of  Southern  girls.  They  want 
a  wooer  like  a  cyclone,  who  carries  them  by  storm,  marries 
them  nolens  volens,  and  then  they're  happy.  But  to  be 
serious,  uncle,  in  these  stormy  times  Lou  needs  a  protector. 
You've  escaped  for  a"  long  time,  but  no  one  can  tell  now 
what  a  day  will  bring  forth.  '  As  my  wife,  Cousin  Lou  will 
command  more  respect.  I  can  take  her  within  our  lines,  if 
necessary,  or  send  her  to  a  place  of  safety.  Ah,  here  comes 
my  blooming  aunt  to  prepare  for  supper." 

"  Welcome  to  The  Oaks,"  she  again  repeated.  "  Never 
more  welcome,  since  you  come  as  defender  as  well  as  guest." 

"Yes,  aunt;  think  of  a  red-whiskered  Yank  paying  his 
respects  instead  of  me." 

"  Don't  suggest  such  horrors,  please." 

The  gentlemen  now  joined  Miss  Lou  in  the  parlor,  while 
under  Mrs.  Baron's  supervision  Zany,  and  Chunk,  as  gardener 
and  man-of-all-work,  with  the  aid  of  others  soon  set  the 
two  tables.  Then  began  a  procession  of  negroes  of  all  sizes 
bearing  viands  from  the  kitchen. 


26  "MISS  LOU." 


CHAPTER  IV. 

aun'  jinkey's  policy. 

ALLAN  SCOVILLE,  for  such  was  the  Union  soldier's 
name,  fully  realized  that  he  was  in  the  enemy's  coun- 
try as  he  watched  through  a  cranny  in  the  cabin  the  shadowy 
forms  of  the  Confederates  file  past.  Every  bone  in  his 
body  ached  as  if  it  had  been  broken,  and  more  than  once 
he  moved  his  arms  and  legs  to  assure  himself  that  they  were 
whole.  "  Breath  was  just  knocked  right  out  of  me,"  he  mut- 
tered. "  I  hope  that's  the  worst,  for  this  place  may  soon 
become  too  hot  for  me.  My  good  horse  is  not  only  lost, 
but  I  may  be  lost  also  through  him.  That  queer-looking 
darky,  Chunk,  is  my  best  hope  now  unless  it  is  Miss  Lou. 
Droll,  wasn't  it,  that  I  should  take  her  for  an  angel?  What 
queer  thoughts  a  fellow  has  when  within  half  an  inch  of  the 
seamy  side  of  life  !  Hanged  if  I  deserve  such  an  awakening 
as  I  thought  was  blessing  my  eyes  on  the  other  side.  From 
the  way  I  ache,  the  other  side  mayn't  be  far  off  yet.  Like 
enough  hours  will  pass  before  Chunk  comes  back,  and  I 
must  try  to  propitiate  his  grandam." 

He  crawled  painfully  to  the  trap-door  and,  finding  a  chink 
in  the  boards,  looked  down  into  the  apartment  below.  Aun' 
Jinkey  was  smoking  as  composedly  it  might  seem  as  if  a 
terrible  Yankee,  never  seen  before,  was  not  over  her  head, 
and  a  band  of  Confederates  who  would  have  made  him  a 
prisoner  and  punished  her  were  only  a  few  rods  away.  A 
close  observer,  however,  might  have  noticed  that  she  was 
not  enjoying  languid  whiffs,  as  had  been  the  case  in  the 


AUNy  JTNKEY'S  POLICY.  27 

afternoon.  The  old  woman  had  put  guile  into  her  pipe  as 
well  as  tobacco,  and  she  hoped  its  smoke  would  blind  sus- 
picious eyes  if  any  were  hunting  for  a  stray  Yankee. 
Chunk's  pone  and  bacon  had  been  put  near  the  fire  to 
keep  warm,  and  Scoville  looked  at  the  viands  longingly. 

At  last  he  ventured  to  whisper,  "Aun'  Jinkey,  I  am  as 
hungry  as  a  wolf." 

"  Hesh  ! "  said  the  old  woman  softly.  Then  she  rose, 
knocked  the  ashes  from  her  pipe  with  great  deliberation, 
and  taking  a  bucket,  started  for  the  spring.  In  going  and 
coming  she  looked  very  sharply  in  all  directions,  thus  satis- 
fying herself  that  no  one  was  watching  the  cabin.  Re-enter- 
ing, she  whispered,  "  Kin  you  lif  de  trap-do'  ?  " 

Scoville  opened  it,  and  was  about  to  descend.  "  No,  you 
kyant  do  dat,"  interposed  Aun' Jinkey,  quickly.  "  Lie  down 
up  dar,  en  I  han'  you  Chunk's  supper.  He  git  his'n  at  de 
big  house.  You's  got  ter  play  possum  right  smart,  mars'r, 
or  you  git  cotched.  Den  we  cotch  it,  too.  You  'speck  I 
doan  know  de  resk  Chunk  en  me  tookin?  " 

"  Forgive  me,  Aunt  Jinkey.  But  your  troubles  will  soon 
be  over  and  you  be  as  free  as  I  am." 

"  I  doesn't  want  no  sech  freedom  ez  you  got,  mars'r, 
hid'n  en  scrugin'  fum  tarin'  en  rarin'  red-hot  gallopers  ez 
Mad  Whately  en  his  men.  Dey'd  des  bun  de  ole  cabin  en 
me  in't  ef  dey  knowed  you's  dar.  Bettah  stop  yo'  mouf  wid 
yo'  supper." 

This  Scoville  was  well  contented  to  do  for  a  time,  while 
Aun'  Jinkey  smoked  and  listened  with  all  her  ears.  Faint 
sounds  came  from  the  house  and  the  negro  quarters,  but 
all  was  still  about  the  cabin.  Suddenly  she  took  her  pipe 
from  her  mouth  and  muttered,  "  Dar  goes  a  squinch-owl 
tootin'.     Dat  doan  mean  no  good." 

"  Aunt  Jinkey,"  said  Scoville,  who  was  watching  her,  "  that 
screech-owl  worries  you,  doesn't  it?" 


28  "MISS  LOU." 

"Dere's  mo'  kin's  ob  squinch-owls  dan  you  'lows  on, 
mars'r.  Some  toots  fer  de  sake  ob  tootin'  en  some  toots 
in  warnin'." 

"  That  one  tooted  in  warning.  Don't  be  surprised  if  you 
hear  another  very  near."  He  crawled  to  the  cranny  under 
the  eaves  and  Aun'  Jinkey  fairly  jumped  out  of  her  chair  as 
she  heard  an  owl  apparently  hooting  on  the  roof  with  a  vigor 
and  truth  to  nature  that  utterly  deceived  her  senses. 
Scoville  repeated  the  signal,  and  then  crept  back  to  the 
chink  in  the  floor.  The  old  woman  was  trembling  and 
looking  round  in  dismayed  uncertainty.  "  There,"  he  said, 
with  a  low  laugh,  "that  squinch-owl  was  I,  and  the  first 
you  heard  was  one  of  my  men.  Now,  like  a  good  soul, 
make  pones  and  fry  bacon  for  five  men,  and  you'll  have 
friends  who  will  take  good  care  of  you  and  Chunk." 

"  De  Lawd  he'p  me  !  w'at  comin'  nex'  ?  Miss  Lou  wuz  a 
wishin'  sump'n  ud  hap'n  — w'at  ain'  gwinter  hap'n?" 

"  Nothing  will  happen  to  harm  you  if  you  do  as  I  say. 
Our  men  may  soon  be  marching  this  way,  and  we'll  remem- 
ber our  friends  when  we  come." 

"  I  des  hope  dere'll  be  sump'n  lef  ob  me  ter  reckermem- 
ber,"  said  Aun'  Jinkey,  but  she  rose  to  comply  with  the 
soldier's  requirement,  feeling  that  her  only  course  was  to  fall 
in  with  the  wishes  of  whoever  happened  to  be  uppermost  in 
the  troublous  times  now  foreseen.  She  was  in  a  terribly 
divided  state  of  mind.  The  questions  she  had  smoked  and 
thought  over  so  long  now  pressed  with  bewildering  rapidity 
and  urgency.  An  old  family  slave,  she  had  a  strong  feeling 
of  loyalty  to  her  master  and  mistress.  But  they  had  been 
partially  alienating  Miss  Lou,  for  whom  she  would  open  her 
veins,  while  her  grandson  was  hot  for  freedom  and  looked 
upon  Northern  soldiers  as  his  deliverers.  Aun'  Jinkey  was 
not  sure  she  wished  to  be  delivered.  That  was  one  of  the 
points  she  was  not  through  "  projeckin'  "   about.     Alas  ! 


AUN*  JINKEY' S  POLICY.  2Q 

events  would  not  wait  for  her  conclusions,  although  more 
time  had  been  given  her  than  to  many  others  forced  to  con- 
template vast  changes.  With  a  shrewd  simplicity  she 
decided  that  it  would  be  wise  to  keep  on  friendly  terms  with 
all  the  contending  powers,  and  do  what  in  her  judgment 
was  best  for  each. 

"  Hit  des  took  all  de  'visions  we  got,"  she  remarked, 
disconsolately. 

"  You'll  soon  have  visions  of  more  to  eat  and  wear  than 
ever  blessed  your  eyes,"  said  Scoville,  encouragingly. 

"  Hi !  granny,"  said  Chunk,  peeping  in  at  the  door. 

"  How  you  start  me  !  "  ejaculated  the  old  woman,  sinking 
into  her  chair. 

"That  you,  Chunk?"  asked  Scoville.  "Is  the  coast 
clear?" 

"  I  reck'n.  Keep  shy  yet  a  while,  mars'r."  A  few  words 
explained  the  situation,  and  Chunk  added  :  "  You  des  feed 
dem  Yankees  big,  granny.  I'se  pervide  mo'.  I  mus'  go  now 
sud'n.  Made  Aun'  Suke  b'lebe  dat  I  knowed  ob  chickens 
w'at  roos'  in  trees,  en  dey  tinks  I'se  lookin'  fer  uni.  High 
ole  times  up  ter  de  house,"  and  he  disappeared  in  the 
darkness. 

In  nervous  haste  Aun'  Jinkey  prepared  the  ample  supper. 
Scoville  hooted  again,  a  shadowy  form  stole  to  the  cabin  for 
the  food,  and  disappeared  again  towards  the  run.  Then  Aun' 
Jinkey  prepared  to  compose  her  nerves  by  another  smoke. 

'•  Hand  me  up  a  coal  for  my  pipe,  also,"  said  Scoville, 
"  and  then  we'll  have  a  sociable  time." 

"  I  des  feared  onsosh'ble  times  dis  eb'nin',''  remarked 
Aun'  Jinkey. 

"If  you  knew  how  my  bones  ached,  you'd  help  me  pass 
the  time." 

"  Reck'n  mine  ache,  too,  'fo'  I  troo  wid  dis  bus'ness." 

"No,  Aunt  Jinkey,  you  won't  be  punished  for  doing  a 


30  "MISS  LOU." 

good  deed.  Your  young  mistress  is  on  your  side,  anyway. 
Who  is  she?" 

"  Young  mistis  ain'  got  no  po'r  ef  dey  fin's  out.  She  nuff 
ter  do  ter  hoi'  'er  own. 

"  How  comes  it  she's  friendly  to  '  we  uns,'  as  you  say 
down  here?" 

"  She  ain'  friendly.  You  drap  at  her  feet  ez  ef  you  wuz 
dead,  en  she  hab  a  lil  gyurlish,  soft  heart,  dat's  all.  Didn't 
she  tole  you  dat  she  ain'  on  yo'  side?" 

"  Well,  bless  her  heart,  then." 

"  I  circumscribe  ter  dat  ar." 

"Aren't  you  on  our  side? " 

"  I'se  des  'twix  en  'tween  all  de  sides." 

"  You're  all  right,  Aunt  Jinkey.    I'd  trust  you  with  my  life." 

"  Reck'n  you  hab  ter  dis  eb'nin'." 

"  Well,  about  Miss  Lou  —  you  say  she  has  trouble  to  hold 
her  own.     How's  that?" 

"  Dem's  fambly  matters." 

"  And  so  none  of  my  business,  unless  she  tells  me  herself." 

" How  she  gwine  ter  tol'  you  tings?" 

"  Ah,  Aunt  Jinkey,  you've  vegetated  a  great  while  in  these 
slow  parts.  I  feel  it  in  my  bones,  sore  as  they  are,  that 
some  day  I'll  give  you  a  new  dress  that  will  make  you  look 
like  a  spike  of  red  hollyhocks.  You'll  see  changes  you  don't 
dream  of." 

"  My  haid  whirlin'  now,  mars'r.  Hope  ter  grashus  I  kin 
do  my  wuk  ter-morrer  in  peace  and  quietness." 

There  was  neither  peace  nor  quietness  at  the  mansion. 
Whately,  with  a  soldier's  instincts  to  make  the  most  of  pass- 
ing opportunities,  added  to  the  hasty  tendencies  of  his  own 
nature,  was  not  only  enjoying  the  abundant  supper,  but 
feasting  his  eyes  meantime  on  the  charms  developed  by  his 
cousin  in  his  absence.  He  knew  of  his  uncle's  wish  to  unite 
the  two  plantations,  and  had  given  his  assent  to  the  means, 


A  UN '  //A TKE  J '  'S  POLIC  Y.  3  I 

for  it  had  always  been  his  delight  to  tease,  frighten,  and  pet 
his  little  cousin  whose  promise  of  beauty  had  been  all  that  ■ 
he  could  desire.  Now  she  evoked  a  sudden  flame  of  passion, 
and  his  mind,  which  leaped  to  conclusions,  was  already 
engaged  in  plans  for  consummating  their  union  at  once.  He 
sought  to  break  down  her  reserve  by  paying  her  extravagant 
compliments,  and  to  excite  her  admiration  by  accounts  of 
battles  in  which  he  would  not  have  posed  as  hero  so  plainly 
had  he  not  been  flushed  with  wine.  There  was  an  ominous 
fire  in  her  eyes  scarcely  in  accord  with  her  cool  demeanor. 
Unused  to  the  world,  and  distrusting  her  own  powers,  she 
made  little  effort  to  reply,  taking  refuge  in  comparative 
silence.  This  course  encouraged  him  and  her  uncle.  The 
former  liked  her  manifestation  of  spirit  as  long  as  he  believed 
it  to  be  within  control.  To  his  impetuous,  imperious  nature 
the  idea  of  a  tame,  insipid  bride  was  not  agreeable ;  while 
Mr.  Baron,  still  under  the  illusion  that  she  was  yet  but  a 
submissive  child,  thought  that  her  bad  mood  was  passing 
and  would  be  gone  in  the  morning.  He  little  dreamed  how 
swiftly  her  mind  was  awakening  and  developing  under  the 
spur  of  events.  She  did  not  yet  know  that  her  cousin  was 
meditating  such  a  speedy  consummation  of  his  purpose,  but 
was  aware  that  he  and  all  her  relatives  looked  upon  her  as 
his  predestined  wife.  Now,  as  never  before,  she  shrunk 
from  the  relation,  and  in  the  instinct  of  self-preservation 
resolved  never  to  enter  into  it. 

Her  long,  rebellious  reveries  in  solitude  had  prepared  her 
for  this  hour,  and  her  proud,  excited  spirit  surprised  her  by 
the  intensity  of  its  passionate  revolt.  Not  as  a  timid,  shrink- 
ing maiden  did  she  look  at  her  cousin  and  his  men  feasting 
on  the  piazza.  She  glanced  at  him,  then  through  the  open 
windows  at  their  burly  forms,  as  one  might  face  a  menace 
which  brought  no  thought  of  yielding. 

The  family  resemblance  between  Whately  and  herself  was 


32  "MISS  LOU." 

strong.  He  had  her  blue  eyes,  but  they  were  smaller  than 
hers,  and  his  expression  was  bold,  verging  towards  reckless- 
ness. Her  look  was  steady  and  her  lips  compressed  into 
accord  with  the  firm  little  chin. 

Mrs.  Baron's  ideas  of  decorum  soon  brought  temporary 
relief.  She  also  saw  that  her  nephew  was  becoming  too 
excited  to  make  a  good  impression,  so  she  said,  "  Louise, 
you  may  now  retire,  and  I  trust  that  you  will  waken  to- 
morrow to  the  truth  that  your  natural  guardians  can  best 
direct  your  thoughts  and  actions." 

Whately  was  about  to  rise  in  order  to  bid  an  affectionate 
good-night,  but  the  girl  almost  fled  from  the  room.  In  the 
hall  she  met  Chunk,  who  whispered,  "  Linkum  man  gittin' 
peart,  Miss  Lou." 

"  She'll  be  over  her  tantrum  by  morning,"  said  Mr.  Baron 
in  an  apologetic  tone.  "  Perhaps  we'll  have  to  humor  her 
more  in  little  things." 

"  That's  just  where  the  trouble  lies,  uncle.  You  and  aunt 
have  tried  to  make  her  feel  and  act  as  if  as  old  as  yourselves. 
She's  no  longer  a  child ;  neither  is  she  exactly  a  woman. 
All  young  creatures  at  her  age  are  skittish.  Bless  you,  she 
wouldn't  be  a  Baron  if  she  hadn't  lots  of  red,  warm  blood. 
So  much  the  better.  When  I've  married  her  she'll  settle 
down  like  other  Southern  girls." 

"  I  think  we  had  better  discuss  these  matters  more  pri- 
vately, nephew,"  said  Mrs.  Baron. 

"  Beg  pardon,  I  reckon  we  had,  aunt.  My  advice,  how- 
ever, is  that  we  act  first  and  discuss  afterward." 

"  We'll  talk  it  over  to-morrow,  nephew,"  said  Mr.  Baron. 
"Of  course  as  guardian  I  must  adopt  the  best  and  safest 
plan." 

Chunk's  ears  were  long  if  he  was  short,  and  in  waiting  on 
a  soldier  near  the  window  he  caught  the  purport  of  this 
conversation. 


WIIATELY'S  IDEA    OF  COURTSHIP.  $$ 


CHAPTER  V. 

whately's  idea  of  courtship. 

WHEN  waiting  on  the  table,  Zany  either  stood  like  an 
image  carved  out  of  black  walnut  or  moved  with  the 
angular  promptness  of  an  automaton  when  a  spring  is  touched. 
Only  the  quick  roll  of  her  eyes  indicated  how  observant  she 
was.  If,  however,  she  met  Chunk  in  the  hall,  or  anywhere 
away  from  observation,  she  never  lost  the  opportunity  to 
torment  him.  A  queer  grimace,  a  surprised  stare,  an  exas- 
perating derisive  giggle,  were  her  only  acknowledgments  of 
his  amorous  attentions.  "Ef  I  doesn't  git  eben  wid  dat 
niggah,  den  I  eat  a  mule,"  he  muttered  more  than  once. 

But  Chunk  was  in  great  spirits  and  a  state  of  suppressed 
excitement.  "  'Pears  ez  ef  I  mout  own  mysef  'fo'  dis  moon 
done  waxin'  en  wanin',"  he  thought.  "  Dere's  big  times 
comin',  big  times.  I'se  yeard  w'at  hap'n  w'en  de  Yanks  go 
troo  de  kentry  like  an  ole  bull  in  a  crock'ry  sto'."  In  his 
duties  of  waiting  on  the  troopers  and  clearing  the  table  he 
had  opportunities  of  purloining  a  goodly  portion  of  the  viands, 
for  he  rememljered  that  he  also  had  assumed  the  role  of  host 
with  a  very  meagre  larder  to  draw  upon. 

Since  the  Confederates  were  greatly  wearied  and  were 
doubly  inclined  to  sleep  from  the  effects  of  a  hearty  supper 
and  liberal  potations,  Mr.  Baron  offered  to  maintain  a  watch 
the  early  part  of  the  night,  while  Perkins  was  enjoined 
to  sleep  with  one  eye  open  near  the  quarters.  Mattresses 
and  quilts  were  brought  down  and  spread  on  the  piazza  Hour, 


34  "MISS  LOU." 

from  which  soon  rose  a  nasal  chorus,  "  des  like,"  as  Chunk 
declared,  "  a  frog-pon'  in  full  bias'." 

Whately,  trained  in  alert,  soldierly  ways,  slept  on  the  sofa 
in  the  parlor  near  his  men.  One  after  another  the  lights 
were  extinguished,  and  the  house  became  quiet.  Chunk  was 
stealing  away  with  his  plunder  through  the  shrubbery  in  the 
rear  of  the  house,  when  he  was  suddenly  confronted  by  Zany. 
"  Hi !  you  niggah  !  "  she  whispered,  "  I'se  cotch  you  now 
kyarin'  off  nuff  vittles  ter  keep  you  a  mont.  You  gwinter 
run  away." 

"  You  wanter  run  wid  me  ?  "  asked  Chunk,  unabashed. 

"What  you  took  me  fer?" 

"  Fer  better  er  wuss,  w'ite  folks  say.  Reck'n  it  ud  be  fer 
wuss  in  dis  case." 

"  I  reck'n  de  wuss  ain'  fur  off.  I  des  step  ter  ole  mars'r 
an'  tell  'im  ter  'vestigate  yo'  cabin  dis  eb'nin',"  she  said,  and, 
with  a  great  show  of  offended  dignity,  she  was  about  to  move 
away. 

"  Look  yere,  Zany,  doan  yer  be  a  fool.  Doan  you  wanter 
be  a  free  gyurl  ?  " 

"  Ef  you  had  me  fer  wuss  I'd  be  des  'bout  ez  free  ez  Miss 
Lou  w'en  she  mar'ed  ter  Mad  Whately." 

"  Hi !  you  year  dat,  too?" 

"  I  got  eyes,  en  I  got  years,  en  you  ain'  gwinter  light  out 
dis  night  en  lebe  yo'  granny  en  we  uns.  I  sut'ny  put  a  spoke 
in  yo'  wheel  dat  stop  hits  runnin'." 

Chunk  was  now  convinced  that  he  would  have  to  take 
Zany  into  his  confidence.  He  looked  cautiously  around, 
then  whispered  rapidly  in  her  ear.  "  Hi !  "  she  exclaimed, 
softly,  "  you  got  longer  head  dan  body." 

"  I  kin  reach  ter  yo'  lips,"  said  Chunk,  snatching  a  kiss. 

"  Stop  dat  foolishness  ! "  she  exclaimed,  giving  him  a  slight 
cuff. 

"  Zany,  keep  mum  ez  a  possum.    Dere's  big  times  comin', 


WIIATELY'S  IDEA    OF  COURTSHIP.  35 

en  no  un  kin  hender  nm,  dough  dey  kin  git  deysefs  in  a 
heap  ob  trouble  by  blarnations.  De  Linkum  men  soon 
gwine  ter  be  top  of  de  heap  en  I'se  gwinter  be  on  top  wid 
um.     Dar  you  be,  too,  ef  you  Stan's  by  Miss  Lou  en  me." 

"  Ve'y  well,  but  I'se  gwinter  keep  my  eye  on  you,  Marse 
Chunk." 

"  Reck'n  you  will,  kaze  I  ain'  gwinter  be  fur  off;  en  ef 
you  puts  yo'  eye  on  some  oder  man,  you  soon  fin'  he  ain' 
dar."     With  this  ominous  assurance  he  stole  away. 

Soon  afterward  the  hoot  of  an  owl  was  heard  again ; 
shadows  approached  the  cabin ;  Scoville,  assisted  by  Chunk, 
joined  them,  and  there  was  a  whispered  consultation. 
Scoville  put  the  result  in  the  following  words  :  — 

"  The  chance  is  a  good  one,  I  admit.  It  is  quite  possible 
that  we  could  capture  the  Johnnies  and  their  horses,  but 
that's  not  what  we're  out  for.  Besides,  I'm  too  badly 
broken  up.  I  couldn't  ride  to-night.  You  must  go  back 
to  camp,  and  leave  me  to  follow.  Chunk  here  has  provis- 
ions for  you.  Better  be  moving,  for  Whately  will  probably 
be  out  looking  for  you  in  the  morning." 

So  it  was  decided,  and  the  shadows  disappeared.  Scoville 
was  put  into  Aun'  Jinkey's  bed,  the  old  woman  saying  that 
she  would  sit  up  and  watch.  Chunk  rubbed  the  bruised 
and  aching  body  of  the  Union  scout  till  he  fell  asleep,  and 
then  the  tireless  negro  went  to  the  spot  where  the  poor 
horse  had  died  in  the  stream.  He  took  off  the  saddle  and 
bridle.  After  a  little  consideration  he  diverted  the  current, 
then  dug  a  hole  on  the  lower  side  of  the  animal,  rolled  him 
into  it,  and  changed  the  brook  back  into  its  old  channel. 
Carefully  obliterating  all  traces  of  his  work  he  returned  to 
the  cabin,  bolted  the  door,  lay  down  against  it  so  that  no 
one  could  enter,  and  was  soon  asleep. 

The  next  morning  dawned  serenely,  as  if  Nature  had  no 
sympathy  with   the  schemes   and   anxieties    to  which    the 


36  "MISS  LOU." 

several  actors  in  our  little  drama  wakened.  Whately  was 
early  on  foot,  for  he  felt  that  he  had  much  to  accomplish. 
Mr.  Baron  soon  joined  him,  and  the  young  man  found  in  his 
uncle  a  ready  coadjutor  in  his  plans.  They  were  both  in 
full  accord  in  their  desires,  although  governed  by  different 
motives.  The  old  man  was  actuated  by  his  long-indulged 
greed  for  land,  and  wholly  under  the  dominion  of  his  belief 
that  one  of  the  chief  ends  of  marriage  was  to  unite  estates. 
In  this  instance  he  also  had  the  honest  conviction  that  he 
was  securing  the  best  interests  of  his  niece.  No  one  could 
tell  what  would  happen  if  the  invaders  should  appear,  but 
he  believed  that  the  girl's  future  could  best  be  provided 
for  in  all  respects  if  she  became  the  wife  of  a  Confederate 
officer  and  a  representative  of  his  family. 

Sounds  of  renewed  life  came  from  all  directions ;  the 
troopers  rolled  up  their  blankets,  and  went  to  look  after 
their  horses ;  Mrs.  Baron  bustled  about,  giving  directions  for 
breakfast ;  Chunk  and  Zany  worked  under  her  eye  as  if  they 
were  what  she  wished  them  to  be,  the  automatic  performers 
of  her  will ;  Aun'  Suke  fumed  and  sputtered  like  the  bacon 
in  her  frying-pan,  but  accomplished  her  work  with  the 
promptness  of  one  who  knew  that  no  excuses  would  be  taken 
from  either  master  or  mistress ;  Miss  Lou  dusted  the  parlor, 
and  listened  stolidly  to  the  gallantries  of  her  cousin.  He 
was  vastly  amused  by  her  reserve,  believing  it  to  be  only 
maidenly  coyness. 

Breakfast  was  soon  served,  for  Whately  had  announced  to 
Mr.  Baron  his  intention  of  scouting  in  the  woods  where  the 
Federals  had  disappeared ;  also  his  purpose  to  visit  his 
home  and  summon  his  mother  to  his  contemplated  wedding. 
He  and  his  men  soon  rode  away,  and  the  old  house  and  the 
plantation  resumed  their  normal  quiet  aspect. 

It  had  been  deemed  best  not  to  inform  Miss  Lou  of  her 
cousin's  immediate  purpose  until  his  plans  were  a  little  more 


WIIATELY'S  IDEA    OF  COURTSHIP.  37 

certain  and  matured.  Circumstances  might  arise  which 
would  prevent  his  return  at  once.  Moreover,  he  had 
petitioned  for  the  privilege  of  breaking  the  news  himself.  He 
believed  in  a  wooing  in  accordance  with  his  nature,  impetu- 
ous and  regardless  at  the  time  of  the  shy  reluctance  of  its 
object ;  and  it  was  his  theory  that  the  girl  taken  by  storm 
would  make  the  most  submissive,  contented  and  happy 
of  wives ;  that  women  secretly  admired  men  who  thus 
asserted  their  will  and  strength,  if  in  such  assertion  every 
form  was  complied  with,  and  the  impression  given  that  the 
man  was  resistless  because  he  could  not  resist  the  charms 
which  had  captivated  him.  "  Why,  uncle,"  he  had  reasoned, 
"  it  is  the  strongest  compliment  that  a  man  can  pay  a  woman, 
and  she  will  soon  recognize  it  as  such.  When  once  she  is 
married,  she  will  be  glad  that  she  did  not  have  to  hesitate 
and  choose,  and  she  will  always  believe  in  the  man  who  was 
so  carried  away  with  her  that  he  carried  her  away.  My 
course  is  best,  therefore,  on  general  principles,  while  in  this 
particular  instance  we  have  every  reason  for  prompt  action. 
Lou  and  I  have  been  destined  for  each  other  from  child- 
hood, and  I'm  not  willing  to  leave  her  to  the  chances  of  the 
hurly-burly  which  may  soon  begin.  As  my  wife  I  can  pro- 
tect her  in  many  ways  impossible  now." 


38  "M/SS  LOU." 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   STORM   BEGINS. 

OF  late  years  Aun'  Jinkey's  principal  work  had  been  the 
fine  washing  and  ironing  of  the  family,  in  which  task 
she  had  always  been  an  adept.  For  this  reason  she  had 
been  given  the  cabin  near  the  run  and  an  unusually  fine 
spring.  Miss  Lou  felt  a  kindly  solicitude  and  not  a  little 
curiosity  in  regard  to  the  man  who  in  a  sense  had  been 
thrown  at  her  feet  for  protection.  So  gathering  up  some  of 
her  laces,  she  made  them  an  excuse  for  another  visit  to  Aun' 
Jinkey.  Mrs.  Baron  readily  acquiesced,  for  she  felt  that  if 
there  was  to  be  a  wedding,  the  whole  house  must  be  cleaned 
from  top  to  bottom.  Moreover,  by  such  occupation  her 
mind  could  be  diverted  from  the  dire  misgivings  inspired 
by  the  proximity  of  Yankees.  Under  the  circumstances,  it 
would  be  just  as  well  if  her  niece  were  absent. 

As  the  girl  passed  down  through  the  shrubbery,  she  found 
Chunk  apparently  very  busy.  Without  looking  up  he  said, 
"  Doan  be  afeard,  Miss  Lou,  I'se  be  on  de  watch.  Marse 
Linkum  man  right  peart  dis  mawnin'." 

Aun'  Jinkey  was  at  her  washtub  near  the  door,  and  the 
cabin  presented  the  most  innocent  aspect  imaginable. 
"  Good-morning,"  said  the  girl,  affably.  "  How  is  your 
patient?" 

"  Recovering  rapidly,  thanks  to  your  kindness  and  the 
good  friends  in  whose  care  you  placed  me,"  answered  a 
hearty  voice  from  the  doorway. 


THE  STORM  BECIArS.  39 

Aun'  Jinkey  made  a  sort  of  rush  to  the  door,  exclaiming 
in  tones  that  were  low,  yet  -almost  stern,  "  Marse  Linkum 
man,  ef  you  show  yo'sef — ef  you  doan  stay  by  dat  ar  lad- 
der so  you  git  up  sud'n,  I  des  troo  wid  dis  bus'ness  !  Tain' 
far  ter  dem  w'at's  reskin*  dere  bodies  en  a'mostdere  souls  !" 

"You  are  right,  aunty,"  said  Scoville,  retreating.  "It's 
wrong  for  me  to  do  any  thing  which  might  bring  trouble  to 
you  or  Chunk ;  but  I  was  so  eager  to  thank  this  other  good 
Samaritan  "  — 

"  Well,  den,  sit  by  de  ladder  dar,  en  Miss  Lou  kin  sit  on 
de  do'step.  Den  a  body  kin  feel  tings  ain'  comin'  ter  smash 
'fo'  dey  kin  breve." 

"  Good  Samaritan  !  "  repeated  Miss  Lou,  taking  her  old 
place  in  the  doorway  where  she  had  so  recently  wished 
something  would  happen ;  "  you  have  not  fallen  among 
thieves,  sir." 

"  My  fear  has  been  that  you  would  think  that  a  thief  had 
fallen  among  the  good  Samaritans.  I  assure  you  that  I  am 
a  Union  soldier  in  good  and  regular  standing." 

"  I  reckon  my  uncle  and  cousin  would  scout  the  idea  that 
you,  or  any  of  your  army,  had  any  standing  whatever." 

"  That  does  not  matter,  so  that  I  can  convince  you  that 
I  would  not  do  or  say  any  thing  unbecoming  a  soldier." 

"  You  are  a  Yankee,  I  suppose  ? "  she  asked,  looking  at 
him  with  strong  yet  shyly  expressed  interest. 

"  I  suppose  I  am,  in  your  Southern  vernacular.  I  am 
from  New  York  State,  and  my  name  is  Allan  Scoville." 

"  Uncle  says  that  you  Yankees  are  terrible  fellows." 

"  Do  I  look  as  if  I  would  harm  you,  Miss  Lou?  Pardon 
me,  I  do  not  know  how  else  to  address  you." 

"Address  me  as  Miss  Baron,"  she  replied,  with  a  droll 
little  assumption  of  girlish  dignity. 

"  Well,  then,  Miss  Baron,  you  have  acted  the  part  of  a 
good  angel  towards  me." 


40  "MISS  LOU." 

"  I  don't  like  such  talk,"  she  replied,  frowning.  "  You 
were  merely  thrown  helpless  at  my  feet.  You  didn't  look 
as  if  you  could  do  the  South  much  harm  then.  What  I 
may  feel  to  be  my  duty  hereafter  "  — 

"  I  have  no  fears  at  all  of  what  you  may  do,"  he  inter- 
rupted, with  a  smile  that  made  his  expression  very  pleasing. 

"How  so?" 

"  Because  you  are  incapable  of  betraying  even  an  enemy, 
which  I  am  not  to  you.  On  the  contrary,  I  am  a  grateful 
man,  who  would  risk  his  life  to  do  you  a  service.  The  little 
unpleasantness  between  the  North  and  South  will  pass  away, 
and  we  shall  all  be  friends  again." 

"  My  uncle  and  cousin  —  indeed  all  the  people  I  know  — 
will  never  look  upon  you  Northern  soldiers  as  friends." 

"  Never  is  a  long  time.  I  certainly  feel  very  friendly 
towards  you." 

"  I  wish  you  to  know  that  I  am  a  Southern  girl,"  she 
replied  stiffly,  "  and  share  in  the  feelings  of  my  people." 

"Well,  I'm  a  Northern  man,  and  share  in  the  feelings 
of  my  people.  Can't  we  agree  that  this  is  fair  and  natural 
in  each  case  ?  " 

"  But  why  do  you  all  come  marauding  and  trampling  on 
the  South?" 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,  Miss  Baron,  but  your  question  opens 
up  all  the  differences  between  the  two  sections.  I  have  my 
views,  but  am  not  a  politician  —  simply  a  soldier.  You  and 
I  are  not  at  war.  Let  us  talk  about  something  else.  With 
your  brave  cousin  enlisting  your  sympathies  against  our  side, 
what  use  would  there  be  of  my  saying  any  thing?  " 

"  My  brave  cousin  does  not  enlist  any  of  my  sympathies ; 
but  that,  certainly,  is  a  matter  which  we  cannot  talk  about." 

"  Pardon,  but  your  reference  to  him  made  it  natural "  — 

"  There  is  no  need  of  speaking  of  him,"  she  interrupted, 
coldly.    "  I  merely  meant  that  he  and  those  with  him  in  what 


THE  STORM  DEGTXS.  4 1 

you  slightingly  term  an  unpleasantness  can  never  be  friendly 
to  you.  This  war  may  be  a  small  thing  to  you,  but  suppose 
your  home  and  family  were  in  danger,  as  ours  are  ?  " 

"  Can  you  think  that  this  war  is  a  holiday  to  me  ? "  he 
asked,  gravely.  "  What  stands  between  me  now  and  death 
—  perhaps  a  shameful  and  horrible  death  —  except  your 
kindly,  womanly  impulses?  I  am  hourly  in  danger  of  being 
caught  and  treated  as  a  spy." 

"  Oh,  I  didn't  realize  it,"  said  the  girl,  simply  and  kindly. 
u  Every  thing  looks  so  quiet  and  lovely.  Aun'  Jinkey,  there, 
my  old  mammy,  is  at  work  just  as  I  have  seen  her  for  years, 
and  Chunk  is  busy  yonder  in  the  garden.  It  is  hard  to 
think  how  suddenly  all  might  change." 

"  A  soldier  must  think  and  be  prepared." 

"  Have  you  no  fear?  " 

"  Life  is  sweet  to  me.  I  know  only  one  thing  —  I  must 
do  my  duty  and  trust  in  God.  I  have  the  consolation  that 
no  one  is  dependent  on  me ;  no  one  would  grieve  for  me 
very  much.  I'm  quite  alone  in  the  world.  My  crusty  old 
guardian  would  inherit  my  property,  and  you  may  well  guess 
that  Aunt  Jinkey's  tub  yonder  would  hold  all  his  tears  if  I 
should  make  a  sudden  exit,"  and  again  he  smiled  in  his 
pleasant  way,  as  if  with  the  purpose  to  relieve  his  words  of 
all  sombreness. 

"Are  you  an  orphan,  too?"  she  asked  sympathetically. 

"Such  a  mature,  fully  developed  orphan  as  I  am  is  not  an 
object  of  pity,  Miss  Baron,"  he  replied,  laughing.  Then  he 
added,  a  little  proudly  :  "  I'm  nearly  twenty-two ;  I  was 
twenty-one  on  my  last  birthday,  and  I  celebrated  it  by  a  ride 
only  less  risky  than  the  one  which  landed  me  at  your  feet. 
But  your  little  word  '  too '  suggests  that  you  are  somewhat 
alone,  also.  I  hope  that  your  father  was  not  killed  in  this 
war?" 

"  No,  my  father  and  mother  died  long  before  the  war." 


42  "MISS  LOU." 

"  I  am  glad  of  that  —  not  glad  that  they  died,  but  that 
you  cannot  associate  me  with  the  causes  of  their  death." 

"  But  you  and  yours  have  caused  death  and  suffering  to 
so  many  Southern  people  ! " 

"Yes,  I'm  sorry  it  is  so,  but  things  are  pretty  even  on  that 
score.     Your  men  give  as  many  blows  as  they  take." 

"  Why  did  you  enter  the  army  ?  " 

"  I  suppose  for  'about  the  same  reasons  that  your  cousin 
did." 

"  Oh,  you  aren't  like  my  cousin  at  all.  I  don't  wish  you 
to  keep  referring  to  him." 

"  Well,  then,  I  thought  it  was  right.  There  was  an  urgent 
call  for  men  and  strong  public  feeling.  I  was  at  college.  I 
couldn't  see  others  go  and  not  go  with  them.  I  had  no 
influence,  no  one  to  push  my  interests,  so  I  simply  enlisted, 
and  am  trying  to  push  my  way  by  extra  services.  Now,  Miss 
Baron,  think  for  yourself  a  little.  Here  we  are,  two  young 
people  thrown  together  by  a  strange  chance.  We  have  been 
brought  up  differently,  surrounded  by  different  influences. 
Even  if  you  think  me  wrong,  can  you  not  believe  that  I've 
followed  my  conscience  and  lived  up  to  such  light  as  I  had  ? 
I  can  believe  this  of  you.  I  don't  wish  you  to  think  that 
we  Yankees  are  monsters.  Do  I  look  like  a  monster?  Why, 
Miss  Baron,  if  I  should  live  to  be  a  hundred  years  I  should 
regard  a  chance  to  do  you  a  kindness  as  the  best  good 
fortune  that  could  befall  me." 

As  he  spoke  these  words  his  face  flushed,  there  was  a  slight 
quiver  in  his  dark  mustache,  betokening  deep,  honest  feeling, 
and  his  expression  was  one  of  frank  admiration  and  respect. 
She  looked  at  him  in  silent  wonder,  and  asked  herself,  "  Can 
this  be  one  of  the  Yankees  of  whom  I  have  heard  such 
horrible  things?" 

She  began  saying,  "  I  am  trying  to  think  for  myself,  but 
I  have  been  so  shut  out  from  the  world  that  —  "when  she 


THE  STORM  BEGINS.  43 

was  suddenly  interrupted.  Chunk  appeared  and  said, 
"  Marse  Scoville,  des  grt  up  de  ladder  en  shut  de  trap-do' 
quicker'n  lightnin'.  Miss  Lou,  kin'er  peramberlate  slow  to'rd 
de  house,  des  nachel  like  ez  ef  you  am*  keerin'  'bout  not'n. 
Wash  away,  granny.     Play  possum,  ev'y  one." 

Miss  Lou  had  gone  but  a  little  way  before  Mad  Whately 
joined  her,  having  ordered  his  men  to  pass  on  before. 
"Chunk,"  he  shouted,  "  take  my  horse  and  rub  him  well,  or 
you'll  get  rubbed  down  yourself." 

The  openings  under  the  eaves  in  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin  were 
so  many  and  large  that  Scoville  had  fairly  good  opportunities 
for  observing  what  was  going  on  in  the  immediate  vicinity. 
In  witnessing  the  meeting  between  Whately  and  Miss  Lou 
he  was  conscious  of  a  peculiar  satisfaction  when  noting  that 
her  manner  confirmed  her  words.  The  dashing  cousin 
evidently  was  not  in  favor.  "  Well,"  thought  the  scout,  with 
a  decisive  little  nod  towards  him, "  were  I  a  young  Southerner, 
you'd  have  a  rival  that  would  put  you  to  your  best  speed. 
What  a  delicious  little  drawl  she  has  in  speaking,  and  how 
charmingly  her  consonants  shade  off  into  vowels  !  I  would 
be  more  readily  taken  for  a  Southerner  than  she,  if  I  did 
not  speak.  How  blue  her  eyes  are  !  and  her  fluffy  hair 
seemed  a  golden  halo  when  the  sunshine  touched  it  through 
the  trees.  And  then  how  unsophisticated  her  face  and 
expression  !  She  is  a  lady  from  instinct  and  breeding,  and 
yet  she  is  but  a  sweet-faced  child.  Well !  well !  it  was  an 
odd  chance  to  be  pitched  to  the  feet  of  a  girl  like  that. 
Very  possibly  I'd  be  there  again  of  my  own  free  will  should 
I  see  her  often  enough." 

If  Scoville  were  a  rival  now  he  certainly  would  have  to 
take  a  wild  pace  to  keep  up  with  Mad  Whately  in  his  woo- 
ing. His  eyes  were  full  of  resolute  fire  as  he  walked  beside 
his  cousin,  and  her  quick  intuition  took  speedy  alarm  at  his 
expression.     "  Well,  sweet  coz,"  he  said,  "  the  Yanks  have 


44  "Af/SS  LOU." 

very  prudently  dusted  back  to  the  region  from  which  they 
came.  My  mother  will  give  herself-  the  pleasure  of  a  visit 
at  the  Oaks  this  afternoon.  Can  you  guess  her  object  in 
coming?" 

"  Why,  as  you  say,  to  give  herself  the  pleasure  of  a  visit." 

"  Yes,  and  you  and  I  will  enhance  her  pleasure  a  thousand- 
fold." 

"  I  shall  do  all  that  I  can  in  courtesy." 

"  I'll  do  the  rest,  for  I  shall  gladden  her  heart  by  marrying 
you." 

"  What ! " 

"Simply  that,  nothing  more.     Isn't  that  enough?" 

"  Far  too  much,"  replied  the  girl,  hotly.  "  I  don't  like 
such  jesting." 

"  Faith  and  it  will  prove  the  best  joke  of  our  lives,  over 
which  we  will  often  laugh  at  our  fireside  hereafter.  Come 
now,  cousin,  make  the  best  of  it ;  it  is  the  best  for  you  as 
well  as  for  me.  You  know  I  always  intended  to  marry  you, 
and  I  have  the  hearty  sanction  of  all  the  high  contracting 
powers." 

She  stopped  abruptly  in  the  path,  her  face  so  rich  in 
angry  color  that  it  shamed  the  flowers  blooming  in  the 
shrubbery  near. 

"  Mr.  Whately,"  she  said,  firmly,  "  there  is  one  contract- 
ing power  that  you  have  not  consulted.  How  can  you 
marry  me  when  I  will  not  marry  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing  easier,  pretty  coz." 

"But  how  —  how?" 

"  Oh,  that  you  will  learn  at  the  proper  time.  Every  thing 
shall  go  as  simply,  naturally  and  merrily  as  fate.  The  bless- 
ing of  parent  and  guardian,  the  clergyman  in  robes,  prayer- 
book,  wedding  feast  —  nothing  shall  be  wanting." 

"  This  is  absurd  talk,"  she  cried,  and  rushed  to  the  house. 
In  the  upper  hall  she  encountered  her  aunt  engaged  in 


THE  STORM  BEGINS.  45 

superintending  a  general  dusting  and  polishing  of  the  old- 
fashioned  furniture. 

"  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  wild  talk  of  Cousin  Madi- 
son?" the  girl  asked,  breathlessly. 

"  I've  heard  no  wild  talk,"  was  the  cool  response. 

"Well,  come  into  my  room  and  hear  it,  then." 

Mrs.  Baron  reluctantly  followed,  rather  aggrieved  that 
she  must  bear  the  first  brunt  of  the  storm. 

"  What  are  you  putting  the  house  in  such  wonderful  order 
for?"  asked  Miss  Lou,  with  flashing  eyes.  "What  do  all 
these  preparations  mean?  What  is  Aunt  Whately  coming 
here  for  this  evening?  " 

"  It  is  very  natural  she  should  wish  to  be  present  at  her 
son's  wedding,"  was  the  quiet  and  exasperating  answer. 

"  When  is  this  wedding  to  be  ?  "  was  the  next  query, 
accompanied  by  a  harsh  laugh. 

"  I  think  we  can  be  ready  by  to-morrow  evening." 

"  Are  you  a  woman,  that  you  can  thus  try  to  sacrifice  the 
motherless  girl  committed  to  your  charge?" 

"  So  far  from  sacrificing  you,  I  am  trying  to  further  your 
best  interests,  and  at  the  same  time  carrying  out  the  wishes 
of  my  husband  and  your  guardian.  These  are  solemn  times, 
in  which  you  need  every  safeguard  and  protection.  We 
should  be  faithless,  indeed,  to  our  trust  did  we  not  give  a 
brave  soldier  the  best  right  in  the  world  to  shield  and  care 
for  you." 

"  Bah  !  "  cried  the  girl,  now  almost  furious.  "  Where's 
uncle  ?  " 

"  In  his  office,  I  suppose." 

Whately  had  preceded  her  thither,  and  had  already  made 
known  to  Mr.  Baron  the  nature  of  his  interview  with  his 
cousin,  adding  :  "  Our  best  policy  will  be  just  to  take  our 
course  as  a  matter  of  course,  in  a  genial,  friendly  way.  We 
certainly  are  the  girl's  best  friends,  and  it  won't  be  long 


46  "MISS  LOU." 

before  she  acknowledges  the  fact.  All  we  do  is  to  secure 
her  safety,  welfare  and  happiness.  She  will  be  as  skittish  as 
a  blooded  filly  over  it  all  at  first  —  a  feature  in  the  case 
which  only  increases  my  admiration  and  affection.  She 
doesn't  and  can't  realize  the  need  of  the  step,  how  it's  best 
for  all  concerned  in  general  and  herself  in  particular.  The 
thing  to  do,  therefore,  is  to  go  right  straight  along.  Mother 
will  be  here  this  evening,  and  will  do  much  towards  talking 
her  into  it.  Lou's  anger  and  revolt  will  probably  be  well 
over  by  to-morrow,  and  all  "  — 

Further  predictions  were  interrupted  by  the  swift  entrance 
of  the  girl.  She  stood  still  a  moment  and  regarded  the  two 
men  in  silent  scorn.  "So  you  are  plotting?"  she  said  at 
last. 

"  Oh,  dear,  no,  sweet  coz.  Nothing  is  more  foreign  to 
my  nature  than  plotting.     I  am  a  man  of  action." 

"  If  your  words  have  any  truth  or  meaning,  you  are  bent 
on  very  dishonorable  action." 

"  Far  from  it.  I  shall  have  the  sanction  of  both  Church 
and  State." 

"  This,  then,  is  the  boasted  Southern  chivalry  of  which  I 
have  heard  so  much." 

"  It  has  been  knightly  in  all  times  to  protect  and  rescue 
lovely  woman." 

"  I  need  no  protection,  except  against  you.  Please  leave 
the  room.     I  wish  to  speak  to  uncle." 

He  attempted  to  kiss  her  hand  as  he  passed  out,  but  she 
snatched  it  away.  "  Uncle,"  she  said,  coming  directly  to 
him,  "  can  it  be  that  you  sanction  any  thing  so  wicked  as 
this?  It  seems  as  if  you  and  aunt  were  permitting  my 
cousin  to  put  upon  me  a  cruel  practical  joke." 

"  Ahem  !  Your  very  words,  Louise,  prove  how  unfit  you 
are  to  judge  and  act  in  accordance  with  this  emergency. 
You  even  dream  that  we  are  in  a  mood  for  jesting  at  this 


THE  STORM  BEGINS.  47 

time,  when  our  days  and  even  hours  may  be  numbered. 
No,  indeed.  I  am  resolved  to  unite  with  my  protection  all 
the  power  and  dignity  vested  in  a  Confederate  officer." 

"  In  other  words,  to  shield  me  against  some  possible 
danger  you  will  try  to  inflict  on  me  the  worst  thing  that 
could  happen." 

"  Hoity  toity  !  Is  an  honorable  marriage  which  has  always 
been  contemplated  the  worst  that  could  happen?  If  we  are 
driven  forth  by  hordes  of  Northern  vandals,  you  would  think 
it  the  best  thing  that  had  happened." 

"  I  don't  fear  these  Northern  vandals.  I  have  "  —  and 
then  she  checked  herself  in  time. 

"  You  don't  fear  them  !  Why,  Louise,  every  word  you 
speak  makes  it  more  imperative  that  I  should  act  for  one  so 
utterly  inexperienced  and  ignorant." 

"  Do  you  actually  mean  to  say  that  you  will  try  to  marry 
me  against  my  will  ?  " 

"Certainly,  against  your  present  will.  Do  you  suppose 
that  I  can  be  guided  in  my  solemn  trust  by  your  petulance, 
your  ignorant  notions  of  life,  and  your  almost  childish  pas- 
sion ?  In  France,  the  most  civilized  country  in  the  world, 
parents  and  guardians  arrange  these  affairs  as  a  matter  of 
course,  and  with  the  best  results.  It  is  the  general  method 
all  over  the  world.  Far  more  than  mere  family  and  pecuni- 
ary interests  are  concerned  in  this  instance.  We  are  giving 
you  a  protector  in  the  time  of  your  deepest  need." 

"  How  could  Lieutenant  Whately  protect  me  if  the 
Yankees  should  come  in.numbers?" 

"  In  more  ways  than  you  can  imagine.  Moreover,  he  would 
probably  be  permitted  to  escort  you  and  your  mother  to  a 
place  of  safety.  You  would  have  his  name,  and  the  name 
of  a  Confederate  officer  would  always  entitle  you  to  respect." 

"Oh,  this  is  dreadful!"  cried  the  girl,  bewildered  and 
almost  paralyzed  by  the   old    man's  inexorable  words  and 


48  "MISS  LOU." 

manner.  So  unsophisticated  was  she,  so  accustomed  to 
be  governed,  that  the  impression  was  strong  that  she  could  be 
controlled  even  in  this  supreme  crisis. 

She  rushed  into  the  parlor,  where  her  cousin  was  striding 
up  and  down  in  a  whirl  of  the  glad  excitement  so  congenial 
to  his  spirit.  "  Cousin  Madison,"  she  exclaimed,  "  I  know 
you  are  hasty  and  impetuous,  but  generous  impulses  should 
go  with  such  a  nature.  You  surely  will  not  use  your  advan- 
tage against  an  orphan  girl? " 

"  No,  indeed,  dear  coz,  not  against,  but  for  you.  I  love 
you  too  well  to  leave  you  to  the  chances  of  war." 

"  Oh,  but  this  is  the  certainty  of  evil.  You  know  I  do  not 
love  you.  If  you  would  wait  —  if  you  would  give  me  time 
to  think  it  all  over  "  — 

"  Why,  so  you  shall  when  I've  escorted  you  and  mother  to 
some  place  where  none  can  molest  or  make  you  afraid." 

"Escort  me,  then,  as  I  am,  under  your  mother's  care. 
Truly  this  would  be  a  better  way  to  win  my  heart  than  such 
hasty  violence  to  all  my  feelings  and  wishes." 

"  My  dear  Louise,  you  may  think  me  a  hasty,  inconsid- 
erate wooer  to-day,  but  that  is  because  you  do  not  know  all 
that  I  know.  I  must,  like  your  guardians,  be  guided  by  your 
best  welfare.  When  you  learn  to  know  me  as  a  kind,  loyal, 
considerate  husband,  you  will  appreciate  my  most  friendly 
and  decisive  action  at  this  time.  You  are  in  great  danger ; 
you  may  soon  be  homeless.  In  the  case  of  one  so  young 
and  fair  as  you  are,  those  who  love  you,  as  you  know  I  do 
passionately,  must  act,  not  in  accordance  with  your  passing 
mood,  but  in  a  way  to  secure  your  peace  and  honor  for  all 
time." 

"  Oh,  this  is  all  a  terrible  dream  !  You  can  —  you  can 
protect  me  as  your  cousin,  should  I  need  any  such  protec- 
tion, which  I  cannot  believe.  Northern  soldiers  are  not 
savages.     I  know  it !  I  know  it !  " 


THE  STORM  BEGINS.  49 

"  How  can  you  know  it  ?  Have  I  not  seen  more  of  them 
than  you  have  ?  I  tell  you  that  for  the  honor  of  our  house  I 
shall  and  will  give  you  the  protection  of  my  name  at  once. 
Your  uncle  and  aunt  feel  as  strongly  as  I  do  about  it,  and 
your  happiness  will  be  the  only  result.  We  Southern  people 
take  no  chances  in  these  matters." 

Overwhelmed,  frightened,  bewildered,  the  girl  left  the 
room  and  mournfully  climbed  to  her  own  apartment.  She 
was  too  utterly  absorbed  in  her  own  desperate  plight  to 
observe  Zany  whisking  away  in  the  background. 


50  "MISS  LOU. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

DANGERS   THICKENING. 

MR.  BARON  was  scarcely  less  miserable  than  his  ward, 
yet  from  wholly  different  causes.  His  anxieties  con- 
cerning her  were  deep  indeed,  his  very  solicitude  impelling 
him  towards  the  plan  which  he  was  eager  to  consummate. 
He  was  distracted  by  fears  and  forebodings  of  every  kind  of 
evil ;  he  was  striving  to  fortify  his  mind  against  the  dire 
misgiving  that  the  Confederacy  was  in  a  very  bad  way,  and 
that  a  general  breaking  up  might  take  place.  Indeed  his 
mental  condition  was  not  far  removed  from  that  of  a  man 
who  dreads  lest  the  hitherto  immutable  laws  of  nature  are 
about  to  end  in  an  inconceivable  state  of  chaos.  What  would 
happen  if  the  old  order  of  things  passed  away  and  the  abom- 
inable abolitionists  obtained  full  control?  He  felt  as  if  the 
door  of  Dante's  Inferno  might  be  thrown  wide  at  any  mo- 
ment. There  was  no  elasticity  in  his  nature,  enabling  him 
to  cope  with  threatening  possibilities ;  no  such  firmness  and 
fortitude  of  soul  as  he  might  be  required  to  exercise  within 
the  next  few  hours.  To  start  with,  he  was  wretched  and 
distracted  by  the  breaking  up  of  the  methodical  monotony 
of  his  life  and  household  affairs.  Since  general  wreck  and 
ruin  might  soon  ensue,  he  had  the  impulses  of  those  who  try 
to  secure  and  save  what  is  most  valuable  and  to  do  at  once 
what  seems  vitally  important.  Amid  all  this  confusion  and 
excitement  of  mind  his  dominant  trait  of  persistence  asserted 
itself.    He  would  continue  trying  to  the  last  to  carry  out  the 


DANGERS    THICKENING.  5  I 

cherished  schemes  and  purposes  of  his  life ;  he  would  not 
stultify  himself  by  changing  his  principles,  or  even  the  daily 
routine  of  his  life,  as  far  as  he  could  help  himself.  If  events 
over  which  he  had  no  control  hastened  action,  such  action 
should  be  in  harmony  with  previous  purpose  to  the  extent 
of  his  power.  The  plan,  therefore,  of  marrying  his  niece 
immediately  to  her  cousin  doubly  commended  itself  to 
him.  It  would  throw  around  her  additional  safeguards  and 
relieve  him  in  part  from  a  heavy  responsibility  j  it  would  also 
consummate  one  of  the  cherished  intentions  of  his  life. 
Things  might  take  a  happy  turn  for  the  better,  and  then  just 
so  much  would  be  gained  and  accomplished. 

Thus  he  reasoned,  and  his  nephew  spared  no  pains  in 
confirming  his  views.  The  truth  urged  by  his  niece  that  she 
did  not  love  her  cousin  seemed  a  small  matter  to  the  unemo- 
tional, legal  mind  of  the  old  man  when  safety  and  solid 
interests  were  concerned.  "  A  child  like  Louise,"  he  said, 
"  must  be  taken  care  of,  not  humored."  Mrs.  Baron  had 
long  since  formed  the  habit  of  yielding  complete  deference 
to  her  husband,  and  now  was  sincerely  in  accord  with  his 
views.  She  had  never  had  much  heart ;  her  marriage  had 
satisfied  her  ambition,  had  been  pleasing  to  her  kith  and  kin, 
and  she  saw  no  good  reason  why  her  niece  should  not,  under 
any  circumstances,  form  a  similar  union.  That  the  girl 
should  revolt  now,  in  the  face  of  such  urgent  necessity,  was 
mere  perverseness.  Sharing  in  her  husband's  anxieties  and 
fears,  she  found  solace  and  diversion  of  mind  in  her  beloved 
housekeeping.  Neither  of  the  old  people  had  the  imagina- 
tion or  experience  which  could  enable  them  to  understand 
the  terror  and  distress  of  their  niece,  whom  with  good 
intentions  they  were  driving  towards  a  hated  union. 

Dinner  was  served  two  hours  later  than  usual  —  a  fact  in 
itself  very  disturbing  to  Mr.  Baron  ;  while  Aun'  Suke,  com- 
pelled to  cook  again  for  the  Confederate  troopers,  was  in  a 


52  "M/SS  LOU." 

state  of  suppressed  irritation,  leading  her  satellites  to  fear 
that  she  might  explode.  Small,  pale  and  bloodless  as  "  ole 
miss"  appeared,  none  of  her  domestics  dared  to  rebel  openly ; 
but  if  any  little  darky  came  within  the  reach  of  Aun'  Suke's 
wooden  spoon,  she  relieved  her  feelings  promptly.  In  dining- 
room  and  kitchen,  therefore,  was  seething  and  repressed  ex- 
citement.   The  very  air  was  electric  and  charged  with  rumors. 

Perkins,  the  overseer,  was  at  his  wits'  end,  also,  about  the 
field-hands.  They  were  impassive  or  sullen  before  his  face, 
and  abounding  in  whispers  and  significant  glances  behind 
his  back.  What  they  knew,  how  much  they  knew,  he  could 
not  discover  by  any  ingenuity  of  questioning  or  threatening, 
and  he  was  made  to  feel  that  excessive  harshness  might  lead 
to  serious  trouble.  Disturbing  elements  were  on  all  sides, 
in  the  air,  everywhere,  yet  he  could  not  lay  his  finger  on 
any  particular  culprit. 

Of  all  the  slaves  on  the  plantation,  Chunk  appeared  the 
most  docile  and  ready  to  oblige  every  one.  He  waited  on 
the  Confederate  troopers  with  alacrity,  and  grinned  at  their 
chaffing  with  unflagging  good-nature.  In  all  the  little  com- 
munity, which  included  an  anxious  Union,  scout,  Chunk  was 
about  the  most  serene  and  even-pulsed  individual.  Nature 
had  endowed  him  with  more  muscle  than  nerves,  more 
shrewdness  than  intellect,  and  had  quite  left  out  the  elements 
of  fear  and  imagination.  He  lived  intensely  in  the  present ; 
excitement  and  bustle  were  congenial  conditions,  and  his 
soul  exulted  in  the  prospect  of  freedom.  Moreover,  the 
fact  that  he  had  proved  himself  to  Zany  to  be  no  longer  a 
mere  object  for  ridicule  added  not  a  little  to  his  elation. 
Shrewd  as  himself,  she  was  true  to  her  word  of  keeping  an 
eye  on  him,  and  she  was  compelled  to  see  that  he  was  acting 
his  part  well. 

Miss  Lou  positively  refused  to  come  down  to  dinner.  She 
had  buried  her  face  in  her  pillow,  and  was  almost  crying  her 


DANGERS   THICKENING.  53 

eyes  out ;  for  in  the  confusion  of  her  mind,  resulting  from 
her  training  and  inexperience,  she  feared  that  if  all  her  kin 
insisted  on  her  marriage,  and  gave  such  reasons  as  had  been 
urged  upon  her,  she  must  be  married.  She  was  sorely  per- 
plexed. Could  the  Yankees  be  such  ravening  wolves  as  her 
uncle  and  cousin  represented  them  to  be  ?  Certainly  one 
was  not,  but  then  he  might  be  different  from  the  others 
because  he  had  been  to  college  and  was  educated. 

"  He  said  he  would  be  glad  to  do  me  any  kindness,"  she 
sobbed.  "  Oh,  if  he  could  only  prevent  this  marriage  !  Yet 
what  can  he  do?  I  could  not  even  speak  to  a  stranger  of 
my  trouble,  much  less  to  a  Northern  soldier.  I  wish  I  could 
see  my  old  mammy.  She's  the  only  one  who  in  the  least 
understands  me  and  feels  a  little  like  a  mother  towards  me. 
Oh,  what  a  dreadful  thing  to  be  a  motherless  girl  at  such  a 
time  !  " 

The  powers  below  stairs  concluded  that  it  would  be  best 
to  leave  Miss  Lou  to  herself  for  a  time,  that  she  might  think 
over  and  become  reconciled  to  the  need  and  reasonableness 
of  their  action,  but  Mrs.  Baron  considerately  sent  up  her 
dinner  by  Zany.  The  unhappy  girl  shook  her  head  and 
motioned  the  tray  away. 

"  Hi,  now,  Miss  Lou,  w'at  you  tookin  on  so  fer?  "  asked 
the  diplomatic  Zany. 

"  For  more  than  you  can  understand." 

"  I  un'erstan's  a  heap  mo'n  you  tink,"  said  Zany,  throwing 
off  all  disguise  in  her  strong  sympathy.  "  Marse  Whately 
des  set  out  ter  mar'y  you,  ez  ef  you  wuz  a  post  dat  cud  be 
stood  up  en  mar'd  to  enybody  at  eny  time.  Hi !  Miss  Lou, 
I'se  bettah  off  dan  you,  fer  I  kin  pick  en  choose  my  ole 
man." 

"  Everybody  in  the  world  is  better  off  than  I  am." 

"  I  wudn't  stan'  it,  Miss  Lou.  I  sut'ny  wudn't.  I'd 
runned  away." 


54  "MISS  LOU." 

"How  could  I  run  away?    Where  could  I  go  to?" 

"See  yere,  Miss  Lou,"  and  Zany  sunk  her  voice  to  a 
whisper,  "  dere's  a  Linkum  man  "  — 

"  Hush  !  how  did  you  know  that?" 

"  Chunk  en  me's  fren's.  Don'  be  'feard,  fer  I'd  like  ter 
see  de  gyurl  dat  kin  beat  me  playin'  possum.  Dat  Linkum 
man  he'p  you  ter  run  away." 

"  For  shame,  Zany  !  The  idea  of  my  going  away  with  a 
stranger ! " 

"  'Pears  to  me  I'se  rudder  runned  away  wid  one  man  dan 
hab  anoder  man  runned  away  wid  me." 

"  Don't  ever  speak  to  me  of  such  a  thing  again." 

"  Well,  den,  Miss  Lou,  de  niggahs  on  dis  plantashon  des 
lub  you,  en  dey  ain'  hankerin'  arter  Marse  Whately.  Ef 
you  say  de  wud,  I  des  belebe  dey  riz  right  up  agin  dis 
mar' age." 

"  Oh,  horrible  ! "  said  the  girl,  in  whose  mind  had  been 
instilled  the  strong  and  general  dread  of  a  negro  insurrec- 
tion. "There,  Zany,  you  and  Chunk  mean  kindly,  but 
neither  you  nor  any  one  can  help  me.  If  either  does  or  says 
any  thing  to  make  a  disturbance  I'll  never  forgive  you.  My 
cousin  and  the  men  with  him  would  kill  you  all.  I'd  rather 
be  left  alone,  for  I  must  think  what  to  do." 

"  I  ain'  sayin'  not'n,  Miss  Lou,  sence  dat  yo'  'quest,  but 
doan  you  gib  up,"  and  Zany  took  her  departure,  resolving 
to  have  a  conference  with  Chunk  at  the  earliest  possible 
moment. 

The  impossible  remedies  suggested  by  Zany  depressed 
Miss  Lou  all  the  more,  for  they  increased  her  impression  of 
the  hopeless  character  of  her  position.  She  felt  that  she 
was  being  swept  forward  by  circumstances  hard  to  combat, 
and  how  to  resist  or  whether  she  could  resist,  were  questions 
which  pressed  for  an  immediate  answer.  She  possessed  a 
temperament  which  warned   her  imperatively  against  this 


DANGERS   THICK  EN  IXC.  55 

hasty  marriage,  nor  was  there  any  hesitancy  in  her  belief 
that  it  would  blight  her  young  life  beyond  remedy.  She 
was  not  one  to  moan  or  weep  helplessly  very  long,  however, 
and  the  first  gust  of  passion  and  grief  having  passed,  her 
mind  began  to  clear  and  face  the  situation.  Looking  out 
of  her  window,  she  saw  that  her  cousin  and  his  men  were 
mounted  and  were  about  to  ride  away  again.  Having 
waited  till  they  had  disappeared,  she  bathed  her  eyes  and 
then  descended  to  her  uncle. 

"  Where  has  Lieutenant  Whately  gone  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Your  cousin  does  not  forget,  even  at  such  a  time,  that 
he  is  a  soldier,  and  he  is  scouting  the  country  far  and  wide. 
Moreover,  it  is  his  intention  to  ask  the  Rev.  Dr.  Williams  to 
be  here  to-morrow  evening,  and  a  few  friends  also.  I  trust 
that  by  that  time  your  perverse  mood  will  pass  away,  and 
that  you  will  unite  with  your  kindred  in  their  efforts  in  your 
behalf." 

"  Is  there  no  use  of  reasoning  with  you,  uncle,  —  no  use 
of  pleading  with  you?" 

Perkins  stood  in  the  door  and  knocked  to  announce  his 
presence. 

"Well,  what  is  it?"  asked  Mr.  Baron,  nervously. 

"  Have  you  heard  any  thing,  sir?  " 

" Good  heavens,  no  !     Heard  what?  " 

"Well,  sir,  I  dunno.  The  field-hands  are  buzzing  like 
bees,  en  I  kyant  get  nothin'  out  of  'em." 

"  Well,  Perkins,  be  watchful.  Do  your  best.  God  only 
knows  what's  coming.     You  are  well  armed,  I  suppose?" 

"  You  may  reckon  that,  sir,  en  Pll  use  'em  too,  ef  need 
be.  The  hands  are  cute,  mighty  cute.  I  kyant  lay  my 
finger  on  any  one  in  particular,  but  they're  all  a  sort  of 
bilin'  up  with  'citement." 

"  Best  to  stay  among  them  and  be  stern  and  vigilant." 
When  Perkins  withdrew  Mr.  Baron  said  to  his  niece  with 


$6  "MISS  LOU." 

strong  emotion,  "  You  see  we  are  beset  with  danger,  and 
you  talk  of  reasoning  and  pleading  against  my  best  efforts 
for  your  safety.  There  !  I'm  too  harassed,  too  overwhelmed 
with  weighty  subjects  for  consideration,  to  discuss  this  matter 
further.  I  must  give  my  attention  to  securing  some  papers 
of  vital  importance." 

Miss  Lou  departed  with  the  feeling  that  dangers  were 
thickening  on  every  hand,  and  that  she  was  only  one  of  the 
causes  for  anxiety  in  her  uncle's  mind.  She  knew  it  would 
be  useless  to  say  any  thing  to  her  aunt ;  and  with  a  longing 
for  a  little  sympathy  and  advice,  she  resolved  on  another 
visit  to  her  old  mammy,  Aun'  Jinkey. 

The  Union  soldier  had  a  remote  place  in  the  background 
of  her  thoughts,  and  yet  she  felt  that  it  was  preposterous  to 
hope  for  any  thing  from  him. 


WHEN!"  57 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

,  "when?" 

THE  vigilant  eyes  and  constant  demands  of  her  mistress 
prevented  Zany  from  giving  Chunk  more  than  a  few 
significant  hints,  but  he  was  quick  to  comprehend  the  situa- 
tion. When  he  saw  Miss  Lou  bending  her  steps  towards  his 
granny's  cottage,  he  thanked  his  stars  that  the  garden  was 
in  that  direction  also,  and  soon  apparently  was  very  busy  at 
a  good  point  from  which  to  observe  the  cabin.  In  view  of 
the  approaching  wedding  Mrs.  Baron  had  given  Aun'  Jinkey 
much  to  do,  and  she  was  busily  ironing  when  Miss  Lou 
again  stood  within  the  door.  The  old  woman's  fears  had 
been  so  greatly  aroused  that  she  had  insisted  that  Scoville 
should  remain  in  the  loft.  "  Folks  '11  be  comin'  en  gwine 
all  the  eb'nin',  en  ole  miss  hersef  mout  step  dis  away." 

At  the  same  time  her  heart  ached  for  the  young  girl. 
At  sight  of  the  sweet,  troubled  face  the  faithful  creature  just 
dropped  into  a  chair,  and  throwing  her  apron  over  her  head, 
rocked  back  and  forth,  moaning  "You  po'  chile,  you  po' 
chile  ! " 

"Yes,  mammy,"  cried  Miss  Lou,  forgetting  for  the 
moment  that  a  stranger  was  within  hearing.  "  I'm  in 
desperate  straits,  and  I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

The  trap-door  was  lifted  instantly,  and  Scoville  was  about 
to  descend. 

"You  mustn't  do  dat !"  exclaimed  Aun'  Jinkey.  "We's 
all  in  mis'ry  anuff  now." 


58  "MISS  LOU." 

"  I  hope  that  in  no  sense  I  am  the  cause  of  it,"  said 
Scoville,  earnestly. 

"  Oh,  no,"  replied  Miss  Lou,  wiping  her  eyes  hastily, 
"not  directly.  Pardon  me,  I  forgot  for  the  moment  that 
you  were  here.  My  trouble  is  with  my  family,  and  you  have 
nothing  to  do  with  it  except  as  you  Yankees  are  coming 
South  and  making  trouble  of  every  kind." 

"  Well,  Miss  Baron,"  said  the  scout,  regarding  her  sympa- 
thetically through  the  open  door,  "  it  is  too  late  to  talk 
about  our  coming  South.  Isn't  there  something  I  can  do 
for  you,  to  show  my  gratitude  and  good-will?  " 

"  Oh,  no,  indeed  ! " 

"  De  bes'  ting  you  kin  do,  Marse  Scoville,  is  ter  shet  dat 
do'  an'  kep  still ;  den  git  back  ter  yo'  folks  soon  ez  you  kin 
trabble.  We  uns  got  des  ez  much  ez  we  kin  stan'  up  un'er, 
en  ef  dey  foun'  you  yere,  hit  ud  be  de  worF  comin'  ter 
smash." 

"  If  Miss  Baron  would  tell  me  her  trouble,  she  might  find 
that  I  am  not  so  powerless  to  help  as  I  seem.  Since  she 
has  done  so  much  for  me,  I  have  a  certain  kind  of  right  to 
do  what  I  can  in  return." 

"  You  forget,  sir,  that  we  are  strangers  and  aliens." 

"  No  one  is  an  alien  to  me  from  whom  I  am  accepting 
life  and  safety,"  and  his  glance  was  so  kind  and  friendly 
that,  in  her  dire  extremity,  she  was  induced  to  ask  a  ques- 
tion. 

"  If  you  feel  that  you  owe  any  thing  to  me,"  she  said, 
hesitatingly,  "tell  me  truly,  if  your  people  came  to  this 
plantation,  would  our  home  be  burned  and  we  all  be  in 
danger  of  insult  and  death?  " 

"  Is  that  all  you  fear?  "  he  asked,  smiling. 

"  But  answer  me  on  your  word  and  honor." 

"  No,  Miss  Baron,  not  from  our  regular  troops.  There 
are  vile  wretches  connected  with  all  armies,  on  your  side  as 


"WHEN?"  59 

well  as  ours,  who  act  without  orders  or  any  control  except 
their  lawless  will.  If  you  and  your  friends  are  tortured  by 
the  fear  of  Northern  soldiers,  should  they  come  this  way, 
you  may  set  your  mind  comparatively  at  rest.  I  must  add, 
however,  that  our  troops  have  to  live  off  the  country,  and  so 
take  food  for  man  and  beast.  They  also  help  themselves  to 
better  horses  when  they  find  them.  I  have  told  you  the 
truth.  Why,  believe  me,  Miss  Baron,  I  would  defend  you 
with  my  life  against  any  one." 

"Oh,  dear!"  cried  the  girl,  with  another  rush  of  tears, 
"  my  uncle  believes  that  our  house  will  be  burned  and  we 
all  murdered,  and  they  are  going  to  marry  me  to  my  cousin 
against  my  will,  so  that  he  can  take  me  to  a  place  of  safety." 

"When?"  asked  Scoville,  excitedly. 

"To-morrow  evening." 

Aun'  Jinkey  in  her  trepidation  had  stepped  to  the  door, 
and  there,  sure  enough,  was  Mrs.  Baron  coming  down  the 
path  with  her  hand  full  of  crumpled  muslins.  She  had 
appeared  so  silently  and  suddenly  before  Chunk  that  he  had 
started  and  stared  at  her.  When  he  tried  to  edge  off  towards 
the  cabin,  she  had  said  sharply,  "  Keep  at  your  work.  What 
is  the  matter  with  you  ?  I  reckon  your  granny  is  smoking 
instead  of  doing  my  work,"  and  she  hastened  her  steps  to 
surprise  the  supposed  delinquent. 

Entering  the  cabin,  she  saw  only  Aun'  Jinkey  ironing,  and 
her  niece  sitting  with  her  handkerchief  to  her  face.  "  Ah  !  " 
said  the  old  lady  to  her  laundress,  "  I'm  glad  you  realize  the 
importance  of  doing  my  work  when  it's  needed."  Then 
followed  a  few  brief  directions  in  regard  to  the  articles  she 
had  brought.  "  Louise,  I  wish  you  to  come  with  me. 
This  is  no  place  for  you,"  concluded  Mrs.  Baron,  turning  to 
depart. 

The  girl  rose  and  followed  submissively,  for  she  was  over- 
whelmed by  a  confused  sense  of  danger,  not  merely  to  the 


60  "M/SS  LOU." 

Union  soldier,  but  also  to  her  old  mammy  who  was  shelter- 
ing him.  The  extremity  of  her  fears  and  the  fact  that  Chunk 
had  not  come  to  warn  them  led  her  to  dread  that  her  aunt's 
suspicions  were  already  aroused.  Chunk  gave  her  a  very 
anxious  look  as  she  passed,  but  she  only  shook  her  head 
slightly,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  I  don't  know." 

The  negro's  elation  and  confidence  now  passed  utterly ; 
he  became  deeply  alarmed,  not  only  for  the  scout,  but  for 
himself  and  grandmother  as  well.  He  was  not  long  in 
coming  to  a  decision.  Whately  and  his  troopers  were 
absent,  and  now,  perhaps,  was  the  best  time  to  act.  After 
satisfying  himself  that  he  was  not  observed,  he  slipped  away 
to  the  cabin. 

When  Mrs.  Baron  finally  disappeared,  Aun'  Jinkey  sunk 
into  a  chair  almost  in  a  state  of  collapse.  "  O  good  Lawd  !  " 
she  gasped,  "  I  des  tremblin'  so  in  my  knee-jints  I  kyant 
stan'." 

"  Courage,  Aunt  Jinkey,"  said  Scoville,  through  the  chink 
in  the  floor.     "  Try  to  get  Chunk  here  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  I  des  done  beat.     I  kyant  lif  my  han'  no  mo'." 

"  Granny,"  said  Chunk,  sauntering  in,  "  you  des  watch  at 
de  do',"  and  without  waiting  for  a  word  he  went  up  the 
ladder,  lifted  the  door  and  closed  it. 

"  Ah,  Chunk,  I  wanted  you  badly,"  said  Scoville.  "  Do 
you  think  it  possible  for  me  to  get  away  at  once? " 

"  Dat  des  w'at  I  come  ter  see  'bout,  mars'r,  en  I'se  gwine 
wid  you.  Marse  Whately  and  he  men  all  done  gone  till 
eb'nin'." 

"  Well,  there's  no  need  of  further  words.  See  what  you 
can  do  about  getting  horses  and  a  good  start.  I  will  explain 
on  the  way.  Hoot  like  an  owl  when  the  coast  is  clear  and 
you  are  ready." 

A  few  moments  later  Chunk  emerged  from  the  cabin, 
with  careless  mien,  eating  a  pone  of  hoecake. 


"IV//EN?"  6 1 

"  Go  back  to  yer  work,"  shouted  Perkins,  who  was  pass- 
ing in  the  distance. 

This  Chunk  did,  his  eyes  following  the  overseer  until  the 
hated  form  was  lost  to  sight  in  a  distant  field  where  a  squad 
of  hands  were  at  work.  Perkins  was  simply  trying  to  be 
ubiquitous  that  day.  Chunk's  next  step  was  to  steal  to  the 
rear  of  the  stables.  To  his  delight  he  found  that  Whately 
had  left  his  horse  in  order  that  it  might  rest  for  further  hard 
service,  and  had  borrowed  one  of  his  uncle's  animals  for  the 
afternoon  ride.  As  Chunk  was  stealthily  putting  on  a  bridle, 
a  gruff  voice  asked,  "  What  yer  doin'  thar?  " 

The  negro's  heart  stood  still.  Turning  quickly,  he  saw, 
to  his  dismay,  one  of  the  Confederate  soldiers  lying  on  a 
pile  of  straw.  A  closer  scrutiny  revealed  that  the  man  was 
drowsy  from  partial  intoxication,  and  Chunk,  feeling  that  he 
was  in  for  it  now,  said  boldly  :  "  Marse  Whately  tole  me  at 
dinner  ter  tek  his  hoss  ter  de  run  fer  a  drink  en  ter  limber 
his  jints  'bout  dis  time  in  de  eb'nin'." 

"  Very  well ;  bring  'im  back  safe  en  sud'n  or  I'll  make 
you  a  head  shorter'n  you  air." 

"  Ob  co'se,  mars'r,  I  do  ez  I  tol'.  I  des  ride  ole  bay 
down,  too.    Mout  ez  well  took  'im  ter  water  de  same  time." 

The  soldier  making  no  response  Chunk  slipped  away  with 
the  horses,  trembling  as  if  in  an  ague  fit.  Nothing  was  left 
for  him  now  but  to  get  away  and  take  his  chances.  Fortune 
in  this  instance,  as  it  often  does,  favored  the  bolder  course. 
The  Confederate  soldier  was  familiar  with  Chunk,  since  he 
had  been  the  waiter  at  the  troopers'  mess ;  moreover  his 
faculties  were  confused  and  blunted  and  he  was  soon  asleep 
again.  Perkins'  back  was  turned  and  every  one  at  the 
mansion  deeply  preoccupied.  Even  Zany,  who  had  been 
charged  not  to  leave  the  dining-room,  was  not  on  the  watch. 

Chunk  hastened  the  horses  down  the  lane  towards  the 
run,  which  having  reached,  he  looked  cautiously  around,  then 


62  "MISS  LOU." 

hooted  in  fairly  successful  imitation  of  the  ominous  bird  of 
night.  Aun'  Jinkey  dropped  into  her  chair  again  with  an 
ejaculation  of  terror. 

"  Look  out  of  the  door  and  tell  me  if  you  see  any  one," 
said  Scoville,  quickly. 

Mechanically  she  obeyed,  saying,  "  No,  mars'r,  but  dat 
squinch-owl  des  shook  me  like  a  ghos'." 

Before  she  knew  it  he  was  beside  her,  his  eyes  shining 
with  excitement.  "  There,"  he  said,  putting  into  the  hand 
he  pressed  a  ten-dollar  bill,  "  I'll  see  you  again,  and  you 
won't  be  sorry.  Good-by,"  and  with  a  swift  glance  around 
he  strode  away  towards  the  run.  A  moment  or  two  later  he 
was  mounted  on  the  bare  back  of  Mad  Whately's  horse, 
following  Chunk  down  the  stream  so  that  the  flowing  water 
might  obliterate  the  hoof-prints.  They  soon  left  the  water 
and  put  their  horses  to  a  gallop  towards  the  forest,  within 
whose  shades  they  disappeared.  Both  had  deemed  best 
not  to  tell  Aun'  Jinkey  of  their  departure,  so  that  she  might 
honestly  plead  ignorance. 

With  the  unerring  instinct  of  a  scout  the  soldier  led  the 
way  hour  after  hour  towards  the  point  where  he  expected  to 
find  the  Union  cavalry  force.  On  the  way  he  and  Chunk 
compared  notes,  and  thus  Scoville  more  truly  understood 
Miss  Lou's  position.  "We  must  be  back  to-morrow 
afternoon,"  he  said,  "  in  time  to  prevent  this  marriage.  So, 
Chunk,  be  careful.  You  must  not  get  sleepy  or  let  your 
horse  stumble." 

Leaving  them  to  pursue  their  way  to  the  northwest,  we 
can  return  to  the  Oaks.  Miss  Lou  followed  her  aunt  into 
the  house,  burdened  for  the  moment  with  a  new  and  pressing 
anxiety.  Did  the  resolute  old  lady  suspect  that  one  of  the 
class  which  she  most  detested  had  been  concealed  within 
earshot  of  her  voice,  and  would  a  search  be  instituted? 
The  girl's  sympathies  had  gone  out  to  the  stranger,  and  the 


"  IV HEX  6t, 

fact  that  he  so  trusted  her  appealed  strongly  to  her  woman's 
nature.  In  her  alienation  from  her  relatives  she  was 
peculiarly  insolated  and  lonely  at  just  the  period  in  life  when 
she  most  craved  appreciative  understanding,  and  her  intui- 
tions led  her  to  believe  that  this  stranger  could  both  under- 
stand and  respect  her  feelings.  His  genial,  kindly  smile 
warmed  her  sore,  lonely  heart,  and  convinced  her  that  there 
was  a  world  of  human  affections  and  simple  faith  as  well  as 
of  imperious  wills  and  formal  beliefs.  His  words  in  regard 
to  himself  and  the  North  was  another  shock  to  her  confi- 
dence in  her  uncle  and  aunt,  and  another  proof  that  there  was 
no  good  reason  for  the  marriage  they  were  forcing  upon  her. 
For  a  brief  time  she  watched  with  keen-eyed  interest  to 
see  if  her  aunt  would  take  any  steps  to  have  Aun'  Jinkey's 
cabin  searched.  Her  mind  was  soon  relieved  on  this  score, 
for  she  became  convinced  that  her  uncle  was  distracted  by 
various  anxieties  ;  while  Mrs.  Baron,  from  force  of  habit  and 
with  the  purpose  of  diverting  her  mind  from  all  she  feared, 
was  pursuing  her  preparations  with  restless  energy,  keeping 
every  one  in  her  employ  as  busy  as  herself.  It  was  evident 
that  her  niece's  idle  hands  and  perturbed  wanderings  to  and 
fro  annoyed  her,  and  at  last  she  broke  out :  "  Louise,  it 
would  be  much  more  becoming  in  you  to  unite  with  me  in 
my  efforts.  The  idea  of  your  sitting  and  idly  bemoaning 
your  case  in  that  foolish  old  woman's  cabin  !  I'm  glad  you 
had  the  grace  to  show  obedience  to  me  before  her,  for  this 
is  a  time  when  to  our  people  the  example  of  obedience  is 
most  necessary,  and  you  should  be  the  first  to  set  it  in  all 
respects.  It  will  only  increase  the  trouble  which  your  uncle 
and  Perkins  are  having  if  our  people  see  that  you  are  rebel- 
lious. There  is  much  that  you  should  be  doing  and  seeing 
to,  for  your  uncle  says  that  it  may  be  best  for  you  to  leave 
the  plantation  with  Mrs.  Whately  and  her  son  immediately 
after  your  marriage." 


64  "MISS  LOU." 

"  I  am  not  married  yet.  I  shall  appeal  to  Aunt  Whately, 
and  if  she  has  a  woman's  heart  she  will  not  sanction  the 
marriage." 

"  You  will  find  that  because  she  has  a  woman's  heart,  and 
a  Baron's  heart,  she  will  sanction  it  and  insist  upon  it." 

"We  shall  see,"  replied  the  girl,  turning  to  go  to  her 
room. 

"  Louise,  it  is  my  wish  that  you  should  put  your  things  in 
order  to  be  packed  hastily,  if  need  be." 

Miss  Lou  made  no  answer. 


FAKALYZED    WITH  SHAME.  65 


CHAPTER   IX. 

PARALYZED  WITH   SHAME. 

SO  far  from  obeying  her  aunt's  injunctions,  Miss  Lou  sat 
down  by  her  window,  but  she  did  not  note  the  smiling 
spring  landscape  over  which  the  western  sun  was  throwing 
its  long,  misty  rays.  Tears  so  blurred  her  eyes  and  blinded 
her  vision  that  she  could  scarcely  see  at  all.  At  last  she 
was  aroused  by  the  crunching  of  wheels,  and  became  aware 
that  Mrs.  Whately  had  arrived.  From  what  she  knew  of 
this  aunt  she  had  a  good  deal  of  hope  from  her  appeal,  for 
Mrs.  Whately  had  always  seemed  a  kind-hearted  woman. 
True,  she  had  been  over-indulgent  to  her  son,  and,  in  her 
blind  idolatry  of  this  only  child,  blind  to  his  faults,  always 
comforting  herself  with  the  belief  that  he  was  merely  high- 
spirited  and  would  settle  down  when  he  grew  older. 

Miss  Lou  wished  to  speak  to  the  mother  before  the  son 
returned,  and  in  the  hope  of  securing  a  merciful  ally  in  the 
lady,  went  down  immediately  to  receive  her.  Mr.  Baron 
was  on  the  back  porch  calling,  "  Chunk,  where  in  the  mis- 
chief are  you?"  Where,  indeed,  with  the  start  he  had 
gained  for  the  Union  lines? 

"My  dear  niece,"  cried  Mrs.  Whately,  effusively,  "how 
glad  I  am  to  see  you,  and  to  take  you  in  my  arms  on  this 
deeply  interesting  occasion  !  "  but  the  matron  was  troubled 
at  the  girl's  red  eyes  and  pallid  face. 

"  I  will  show  you  to  your  room  at  once,"  said  Mrs.  Baron 
to  her  guest,  decisively  and  significantly. 


66  "MISS  LOU." 

Miss  Lou  was  right  in  believing  that  the  situation  and  the 
unhappy  appearance  of  the  prospective  bride  would  be 
explained.  She  had  been  forestalled  in  her  chance  to  make 
an  appeal.  Mrs.  Baron  emphatically  sustained  her  husband's 
purpose,  concluding :  "  My  dear  sister,  in  this  crisis  you  will 
have  to  take  a  firm  stand  with  the  rest  of  us.  Louise  is  act- 
ing like  a  perverse  child,  and  no  more  realizes  the  necessity 
and  wisdom  of  our  course  than  a  baby." 

Meantime  the  outcry  for  Chunk  increased,  and  Miss  Lou 
was  troubled  that  he  did  not  respond.  Taking  advantage 
of  the  fact  that  her  mistress  was  upstairs,  Zany  stole  swiftly, 
with  many  a  misgiving,  to  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin. 

"  Whar  dat  gran'boy  o'  you'n?  "  she  asked,  breathlessly. 

"  Ain'  he  in  de  gyardin?  " 

"  No,  he  ain'.  Does  you  know  whar  he  is  ?  Bettah  tell 
me  de  truf.     Mout  sabe  you  a  heap  ob  trouble." 

"  Des  you  min'  yo'  business,  en  doan  cum  trapesin'  yere 
'bout  Chunk.     You  talks  ez  ef  you  own  'im." 

"  Ole  mars'r  tinks  he  own  'im,  en  he  des  a  yellin'  fer  'im. 
De  oberseer  hollerin',  too,  en  de  lil  niggahs  runnin'  yere, 
dar,  en  yander  lookin'  fer  'im.     Yere  one  ob  um  now." 

With  new  and  direful  forebodings  Aun'  Jinkey  declared 
loudly:  "  I  doan  know  whar  he  be.  He  ain'  say  not'n  ter 
me  'bout  gwine  anywhar." 

Uttering  an  angry  and  contemptuous  exclamation,  Zany 
sped  back,  and,  with  a  scared  look,  said  to  Miss  Lou, 
"  Aun'  Jinkey  'clar  she  dunno  not'n  'bout  Chunk's  doin's. 
Ef  she  ain'  foolin'  me,  I  des  belebe  he's  runned  away." 

At  these  tidings  and  at  this  suggestion  the  young  girl 
was  almost  distracted.  She  went  instantly  to  the  cabin, 
supposing  that  it  would  soon  be  searched. 

"Mammy  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "where's  Chunk?" 

"  'Fo'  de  Lawd,  honey,  I  doan  know.  I  des  gwine  all 
ter  pieces  wid  de  goin's  on." 


PARALYZED    WITH  SHAME.  6"J 

"But  people  will  be  here  looking.  Is  he  up  there?" 
asked  the  girl  in  a  whisper. 

"  No,  he  des  lit  out  two  hour  ago,  en  he  guv  me  dis " 
(showing  the  money),  "en  say  he  see  me  agin.  I'se  feared 
he'n  Chunk  gwine  off  togeder." 

"  Well,  you  don't  know.  Hide  the  money  and  declare 
you  don't  know  any  thing.  I'll  stand  by  you  as  far  as  I 
can." 

As  she  hastened  back  she  saw  a  Confederate  soldier 
running  towards  the  house  and  Perkins  limping  after  him  as 
fast  as  possible.  Entering  the  rear  door  she  heard  the 
soldier  demanding  fiercely  of  her  uncle,  "  Where's  that  cursed 
nigger  you  call  Chunk?  " 

"  Whom  are  you  addressing,  sir?  "  asked  Mr.  Baron,  indig- 
nantly. 

"  Well,  see  yere,  boss,"  was  the  excited  reply,  "  this  ere 
ain't  no  time  fer  standin'  on  nice  words.  That  cursed  nigger 
o'  your'n  took  the  lieutenant's  horse  ter  the  run  fer  a  drink, 
en  one  o'  your'n  'long  of  him,  en  me  en  Perkins  kyant  find 
nary  one  of  'em." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  added  Perkins  in  great  wrath,  "  we  uns  follered 
the  hoof-prints  ter  the  run  en  inter  the  water,  en  there's  no 
hoof-prints  comin'  back.  That  infernal  nigger  has  lit  out 
with  the  two  horses." 

"  Why  don't  you  go  after  him  then?  "  shouted  Mr.  Baron, 
distracted  with  anger  and  accumulating  perplexities.  "  He 
can't  be  far  yet." 

"  I'd  like  ter  see  the  hoss  on  this  place  that  could  ketch 
the  lieutenant's  black  mare.  Oh,  why  didn't  I  shoot  the 
nigger?"  and  the  soldier  strode  up  and  down  as  if  de- 
mented. 

"  You  deserve  to  be  shot  yourself,  sir,  if  you,  who  had 
been  placed  on  guard,  permitted  that  black  rascal  to  take 
the  horses." 


68  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  soldier,  desperately,  "  en  the  lieutenant 
is  ther  man  ter  shoot  me  —  cuss  his  red-hot  blood  !  "  and  he 
stalked  away  towards  the  stables  as  if  possessed  by  a  sudden 
resolve. 

Turning  to  enter  the  house,  Mr.  Baron  encountered  his 
niece,  who  had  been  a  witness  to  the  scene,  which  explained 
every  thing  to  her.  "  You  see,  you  see,"  cried  the  old  man, 
"  every  thing  going  to  rack  and  ruin  !  Would  to  Heaven 
you  could  be  married  to-night  and  sent  away  to  a  place  of 
safety !  " 

"  Uncle,"  said  the  girl,  almost  fiercely,  "  did  you  not 
hear  that  man  say  of  my  cousin,  '  curse  his  red-hot  blood '  ? 
Is  that  the  kind  of  a  protector  you  would  force  upon 
me?" 

"  Yes,"  almost  shouted  the  angry  man,  "  because  he  has 
the  spirit  to  deal  justly  with  such  reprobates.  He's  just  the 
kind  of  protector  you  need  in  these  lurid  times,  when  it 
seems  as  if  no  one  could  be  trusted.  To  think  that  that 
boy  Chunk,  who  has  been  treated  so  well,  could  play  us 
such  an  infernal  trick  !  His  old  crone  of  a  grandam  must 
know  something  about  it,  and  I'll  make  her  tell.  Perkins  ! " 
and  Mr.  Baron  rushed  towards  the  door  again. 

The  ladies  had  now  descended  and  joined  the  excited 
group  on  the  veranda.  Zany  was  listening  with  craned  neck 
from  the  dining-room  door,  and  other  "  yard  folks,"  great 
and  small,  were  gathering  also. 

"What  is  the  matter?"  cried  Mrs.  Baron. 

Paying  no  heed  to  her,  Mr.  Baron  said  to  his  overseer, 
"  Aun'  Jinkey  must  know  about  this  rascally  flight  and  theft. 
Bring  her  here." 

"  Uncle,"  said  Miss  Lou,  firmly,  "  Aun'  Jinkey  doesn't 
know  any  thing  about  Chunk's  disappearance.  I've  been  to 
her  cabin  and  asked  her." 

"  As  if  the  cunning  old  witch  would  tell  you  any  thing  ! 


PARALYZED    WITH  SHAME.  69 

Bring  her  here,  I  say,  Perkins.  It's  time  the  spirit  of  insub- 
ordination on  this  place  received  a  wholesome  check." 

"  Why  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Baron,  "  it  seems  but  a  little 
while  ago  that  Chunk  was  working  quietly  in  the  garden." 

"  En  I  reckon  hit  ain't  much  more'n  two  hours  gone  sence 
I  seed  'im  comin'  out  o'  the  cabin,  lazin'  and  eatin'  hoe- 
cake,"  added  Perkins  as  he  started  angrily  to  obey  his  orders. 

"  He  had  mischief  in  his  mind,  though,  now  I  think  of  it," 
resumed  Mrs.  Baron,  "  for  he  seemed  startled  when  he  saw 
me,  and  tried  to  edge  away  to  the  cabin.  I  thought  he  was 
afraid  I  would  catch  his  granny  smoking  instead  of  doing 
urgent  work.  Louise,  you  were  in  the  cabin  at  the  time. 
Why  should  Chunk  be  so  anxious  to  get  there  before  I 
did?" 

"  I  have  not  spoken  to  him  this  afternoon,  and  know 
nothing  of  his  movements  except  what  I  have  heard,"  replied 
the  girl,  coldly. 

"  Oh,  dear  ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Whately,  "  what  troublous 
times  we've  fallen  upon  !  " 

In  the  silence  which  followed  they  heard  the  gallop  of  a 
horse.  A  moment  later  a  negro  came  running  up  and  ex- 
claiming, "  Dat  sojer  in  de  stable  des  saddle  he  hoss  en  put 
out  ez  ef  de  debil  wuz  arter  'im  ! " 

Miss  Lou  smiled  bitterly  as  she  thought,  "  He  evidently 
doesn't  think  it  wise  to  wait  for  my  protector." 

At  this  moment  Mad  Whately  appeared  cantering  smartly 
up  the  avenue  at  the  head  of  his  men.  Throwing  his  reins 
to  a  colored  boy,  he  strode  smilingly  up  the  steps,  exclaim- 
ing, "  Why,  this  is  a  regular  committee  of  reception.  I  am 
doubled  honored  since  my  fair  cousin  is  present  also." 

Miss  Lou  made  no  reply,  and  the  expression  on  all  faces 
led  him  to  ask  quickly,  "Why,  what's  the  matter?  " 

The  young  man's  brow  grew  black  as  Mr.  Baron  gave  a 
hasty  explanation.     A  half-suppressed  oath  rose  to  his  lips 


70  "MISS  LOU." 

as  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  shouted  to  his  men,  "  Halt, 
there  !  Let  every  man  mount  and  await  orders.  Simson, 
you  and  two  others  follow  the  guard  I  left  with  my  horse. 
Where's  that  nigger  who  saw  him  start?  Here,  you,  put 
these  men  on  his  track  as  you  value  your  life  !  Simson,  take 
him,  dead  or  alive  ! " 

The  men  saluted,  and  departed  at  once.  The  galloping 
of  their  horses  soon  died  away  in  the  distance.  "  Now  for 
this  beldam,"  said  Whately,  sternly,  as  Aun'  Jinkey  ap- 
proached, tottering  in  her  excess  of  fear  and  accompanied 
by  Perkins. 

Miss  Lou  saw  that  her  cousin  was  terribly  excited ;  indeed, 
that  he  fairly  trembled  with  passion.  She  was  scarcely  less 
stirred  herself,  for  she  possessed  much  of  the  hot  blood  of 
her  kindred,  and  during  the  last  twenty-four  hours  nearly  all 
that  had  occurred  tended  to  fire  her  spirit.  Now  that  she 
saw  her  own  dear  old  mammy  led  cowering  under  the  hostile 
eyes  of  every  one,  she  was  almost  beside  herself  with  pity 
and  anger.  Unaccustomed  to  conventional  restraint,  re- 
acting from  long  years  of  repression,  a  child  still  in  some 
respects,  in  others  a  passionate  woman  revolting  at  a  fate 
from  which  her  whole  nature  shrank,  she  was  carried  far 
above  and  beyond  her  normal  condition,  and  was  capable  of 
following  her  impulses,  whatever  they  might  be. 

Aun'  Jinkey  turned  her  eyes  appealingly,  and  was  awed, 
even  in  that  terrible  moment,  by  the  intensity  of  the  girl's 
expression,  as  she  half  consciously  drew  nearer  and  nearer. 
The  field-hands,  deeply  excited,  had  also  edged  up  from 
the  quarters.  Mr.  Baron  and  his  overseer  observed  yet 
tolerated  this,  thinking  that  it  might  be  just  as  well  to 
have  the  negroes  learn  from  Aun'  Jinkey's  experience  that 
authority  would  still  be  sternly  enforced. 

Whately's  headlong  temperament  was  so  overcome  by 
anger  that  he  noted  nothing  except  the  presence   of  one 


PARALYZED    WITH  SHAME.  J\ 

whom  he  believed  the  aider  and  abetter  in  his  great  loss, 
for  a  favorite  and  trusty  horse  is  one  of  the  dearest  posses- 
sions of  a  cavalryman. 

"  Where's  your  grandson?  "  he  demanded,  fiercely. 

"  'Fo'  tie  Lawd,  I  dunno,"  gasped  Aun'  Jinkey. 

"  The  truth,  now,  or  you'll  be  sorry." 

"  I  dunno,  I  dunno.  Ef  he  gone,  he  ain'  say  neber  a 
word  ter  me,  not  eben  good-by." 

"No  use  of  your  lying.  You  knew  the  rascal's  pur- 
pose.    Why  didn't  you  tell  Mr.  Baron?    Which  way  did  he 


go 


>" 


"I  des  declar,  mars'r,  I  dunno." 

"  You  do  know,"  cried  Whately,  driven  almost  to  frenzy, 
*  and  I'll  cut  the  truth  out  of  you." 

His  whip  fell  before  he  could  arrest  it,  but  it  struck  the 
arm  and  shoulder  of  Miss  Lou.  She  had  drawn  very  near, 
and,  swift  as  light,  had  sprung  forward  and  encircled  the  form 
of  her  mammy.  There  were  startled  exclamations  from  those 
near,  echoed  by  a  groan  from  the  negroes,  and  then  the  girl 
spoke  in  stern,  deep  tones,  "You  thought  to  strike  one 
woman,  and  you  have  struck  two." 

Whately  dropped  his  whip  and  stood  with  bowed  head, 
paralyzed  with  shame.  There  were  wild  cries  and  a  sway- 
ing of  the  field-hands  towards  the  house.  The  mounted  sol- 
diers drew  their  revolvers  and  looked  from  the  thronging 
black  faces  to  that  of  their  commander,  but  he  paid  no 
heed  to  them.  Perkins  did  not  wait,  however,  but  drawing 
his  weapon,  began  to  limp  towards  the  threatening  mass, 
with  oaths  and  orders  to  disperse.  As  for  Mr.  Baron  and 
the  ladies,  they  were  just  helpless  in  the  whirl  of  events. 

Although  Miss  Lou's  back  was  towards  this  new  phase  of 
the  drama,  she  instantly  and  instinctively  comprehended  it. 
With  a  fear  almost  hereditary,  as  well  as  one  vaguely  dreaded 
from  childhood,  she  recognized  the  possible  horrors  of  an 


72  "MISS  LOU." 

insurrection,  her  own  action  the  indirect  cause.  She  turned 
and  sprang  forward  so  swiftly  to  interpose  that  her  comb  fell 
away,  and  her  golden  hair  streamed  behind  her.  She  stood 
between  the  blacks  and  those  who  could  harm  them ;  also 
those  whom,  in  their  wild  excitement,  they  were  ready  to 
attack. 

"  Silence  ! "  she  cried ;  then  in  the  deep  hush  that  fol- 
lowed she  called  out,  in  clear,  ringing  tones :  "  Every 
friend  of  mine  will  go  back  to  quarters,  keep  quiet,  and 
obey  orders.  I  promise  that  no  harm  shall  come  to  any  of 
you." 

The  men  doffed  their  ragged  hats,  and  a  voice  from  the 
crowd  answered,  "We  'bey  you,  Miss  Lou,  en  we  won'  let 
no  harm  come  ter  you,  noder."  Then  as  the  dense,  angry 
mass  of  a  hundred  or  more  men  and  women  melted  away 
towards  the  quarters,  it  was  seen  that  many  a  heavy 
club  was  carried  among  them.  Miss  Lou  watched  them 
silently  two  or  three  moments,  the  rest  looking  on  in 
wonder  and  suppressed  anger  mingled  with  fear.  The  girl 
returned,  and  taking  her  mammy  by  the  hand,  was  about  to 
lead  her  into  the  house.  Whately  started  as  she  essayed  to 
pass  him  unheedingly,  and  seized  her  hand.  "  Lou,  Cousin 
Lou,  forgive  me  !  "  he  cried.  "  You  know  I  meant  you  no 
such  indignity." 

"  I  know  you  mean  me  a  greater  one,"  she  replied,  coldly, 
withdrawing  her  hand. 

"  See  !  I  ask  your  forgiveness  on  my  knees  ! "  he  urged, 
passionately. 

But  her  heart  was  steeled  against  him,  for  her  very  soul 
was  hot  with  indignation.  "Come,  mammy,"  she  said, 
firmly,  "  such  shelter  and  protection  as  I  still  have  in  this 
house  you  shall  share." 

"Louise,  this  is  monstrous  ! "  began  Mrs.  Baron. 

"No!  "  cried  the  girl.    "  This  poor  creature  is  the  nearest 


PARALYZED    WITH  SHAME.  J$ 

approach  I  have  ever  known  to  a  mother.  She  doesn't 
know  about  her  grandson,  and  no  one  shall  try  to  cut  the 
truth  out  of  her.  Come,  mammy,"  and  she  led  the  trem- 
bling old  negress  up  to  her  room.  When  hidden  from  all 
eyes  her  courage  and  excitement  gave  way,  and  she  cried  on 
her  mammy's  breast  like  the  child  she  was. 


74  "MISS  LOU." 


CHAPTER  X. 

A   BAFFLED  DIPLOMATIST. 

MISS  LOU  left  consternation,  confusion  and  deep  anxiety 
below  stairs.  Mad  Whately  had  his  own  code  of 
ethics,  and  he  felt  as  if  he  had  committed  the  unpardonable 
sin.  His  mother  was  shocked  and  pained  beyond  measure. 
She  understood  the  feelings  of  her  son,  and  sympathized 
with  him.  Drawing  him  into  the  parlor,  she  soothed  and 
cheered  him  with  the  assurance  that  when  his  cousin's  anger 
passed  she  would  explain  and  intercede. 

"  O  mother ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  I  did  love  her  honestly 
before,  but  now  I  adore  her.  I  must  marry  her,  and  by  a 
lifetime  of  devotion  wipe  out  the  wrong  I  did  not  intend  to 
inflict." 

"  It  will  all  come  about  right  yet,  my  boy,"  she  whispered. 
"  I  never  understood  Louise  before.  I  fear  they  have  been 
too  strict  and  unsympathetic  in  her  bringing  up,  and  so  she 
has  naturally  rebelled  against  all  their  plans.  You  didn't 
think  at  the  time  —  indeed,  in  our  excitement  we  all  forgot 
—  that  Aun'  Jinkey  was  her  mammy,  and  you  know  how 
strong  that  tie  is,  even  in  your  case,  and  you  have  always 
had  a  mother's  love." 

"  Oh,  fool,  fool  that  I  was  in  my  mad  anger !  Brave, 
grand,  heroic  girl !  I'd  have  done  as  much  for  my  old 
mammy ;  or  rather  I'd  have  struck  down  a  general  before 
he  should  harm  her.  O  mother,  mother  ! "  concluded  the 
much-indulged  youth,  "I  must  marry  her.  She  is. just  the 
bride  for  a  soldier." 


A   BAFFLED   DIPLOMATIST.  75 

"  Rather  than  have  her  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy, 
we  will  lead  her  to  see  that  it  is  the  only  thing  to  be  done," 
replied  Mrs.  Whately. 

Perkins  had  a  consultation  with  Mr.  Baron,  as  far  as  that 
desperately  perturbed  old  gentleman  was  capable  of  holding 
one,  the  result  of  which  was  the  decision  to  let  the  negroes 
alone,  provided  they  kept  quiet  and  obeyed.  It  was  evident 
to  both  of  them  that  the  approach  of  Union  forces;  though 
yet  comparatively  distant,  had  produced  the  usual  demoral- 
izing effects.  The  government  at  The  Oaks  had  not  been 
harsh,  but  it  had  been  strict  and  animated  by  a  spirit  which 
alienated  sympathy.  The  situation  was  now  seen  to  be  too 
critical  to  admit  of  severity,  all  the  more  as  the  protection 
of  Whately  and  his  troopers  might  soon  be  withdrawn. 

It  was  a  silent  and  depressing  meal  to  which  they  sat 
down  that  evening,  long  after  the  accustomed  hour,  a  fact 
which  Mr.  Baron  would  not  forget,  even  in  the  throes  of  an 
earthquake.  He  groaned  over  it;  he  groaned  over  every 
thing,  and  especially  over  his  niece,  who  had  suddenly 
developed  into  the  most  unmanageable  element  in  the  whole 
vexed  problem  of  the  future.  He  felt  that  they  owed  her 
very  much,  and  that  she  held  the  balance  of  power  through 
her  influence  over  the  negroes ;  and  yet  he  was  incensed 
that  she  was  not  meek  and  submissive  as  a  young  woman 
should  be  under  all  circumstances.  An  angry  spot  burned 
in  each  of  Mrs.  Baron's  cheeks,  for  she  felt  that  Miss  Lou's 
conduct  reflected  very  unfavorably  on  her  bringing  up.  She 
was  so  scandalized  and  vexed  that  she  could  scarcely  think 
of  any  thing  else.  Mrs.  Whately  was  all  deprecation  and 
apology,  trying  to  pour  oil  on  the  troubled  waters  in  every 
way,  while  her  son  was  as  savagely  angry  at  himself  as  he 
had  been  at  poor  Aun'  Jinkey  and  her  grandson. 

Most  fortunately  the  main  feature  in  the  case  remained  un- 
discovered.    The  fact  that  a  Union  scout  had  been  hidden 


?6  "MZSS  LOU." 

and  permitted  to  depart  would  have  been  another  bomb- 
shell, and  the  consequences  of  its  explosion  would  have  been 
equally  hard  to  predict  or  circumscribe.  As  it  was,  Miss 
Lou  and  Aun'  Jinkey  received  a  certain  remorseful  sympathy 
which  they  would  have  forfeited  utterly  had  the  truth  been 
revealed.  And  the  secret  did  tremble  on  the  lips  of  Zany. 
She  was  not  only  greatly  aggrieved  that  Chunk  had  "  runned 
away  "  after  all,  without  her,  and  had  become  a  sort  of  hero 
among  his  own  kind  on  the  plantation,  but  she  also  felt 
keenly  her  own  enforced  insignificance  when  she  knew  so 
much  more  than  that  Chunk  had  merely  decamped.  Her 
mistress  little  dreamed,  as  the  girl  waited  stolidly  and 
sullenly  on  the  table,  that  she  was  so  swelling  with  her 
secret  as  to  be  like  a  powder  magazine.  But  fear  rather  than 
faith  finally  sealed  Zany's  lips.  She  was  aware  that  the 
first  question  asked  would  be,  "  If  you  knew  so  much,  why 
didn't  you  tell?  "  and  she  could  give  no  reason  which  would 
save  her  from  condign  punishment.  Moreover,  she  hoped 
that  Chunk  would  soon  return  with  no  end  of  "Linkum 
men,"  and  then  her  silence  would  be  rewarded. 

Supper  was  sent  up  to  Miss  Lou  and  her  guest,  and  the 
old  woman,  having  at  last  some  sense  of  security,  made  her 
first  good  meal  since  "  things  began  to  happen."  Then  she 
hankered  after  her  pipe.  "I'll  get  it  for  you,"  said  the 
warm-hearted  girl.  She  stole  to  the  head  of  the  landing, 
and,  the  hall  below  being  clear  at  the  moment,  she  flitted 
down  and  out  at  the  back  door,  reaching  the  deserted  cabin 
unobserved.  How  desolate  it  looked  in  the  fading  twilight ! 
The  fire  was  out  on  the  hearth,  and  the  old  creaking  chair 
was  empty.  But  Miss  Lou  did  not  think  of  Aun'  Jinkey. 
Her  thoughts  were  rather  of  a  stranger  whose  face  had  been 
eloquent  of  gratitude  as  he  offered  to  shield  her  with  his  life. 
Then  she  remembered  his  excited  question  as  to  the  time  of 
the  marriage.    "When?"    Had  her  answer  any  thing  to  do 


A   BAFFLED   DIPLOMATIST.  yj 

with  the  sudden  and  bold  departure  ?  Her  heart  was  in  a 
sudden  flutter.  She  snatched  the  corncob  pipe  and  tobacco 
pouch,  and  sped  back  again  in  a  strange  blending  of  fear 
and  hope.  She  felt  guilty  that  she  could  dare  hope  to  see 
him,  a  Yankee,  again.  "  But  his  smile  was  so  pleasant  and 
frank  !  "  she  murmured.  "  Oh,  I  never  remember  to  have 
had  such  genial,  honest,  unreserved  good-will  looked  at  me 
by  any  one  except  mammy,  and  she's  so  old  and  wrinkled 
that  she  can't  look  much  of  any  thing.  What  handsome, 
kind,  dark  eyes  he  had  !  Yet  they  would  all  say,  '  He's  a 
monster ! '  " 

She  made  her  way  back  in  safety  until  she  reached  the 
head  of  the  stairs,  and  then  came  plump  upon  her  aunt. 
"Where  have  you  been?"  asked  Mrs.  Baron,  sharply. 

"  After  Aun'  Jinkey's  pipe." 

"  Horrible  !     I  forbid  her  smoking  in  this  house." 

"  I  shall  permit  her  to  smoke  in  my  room." 

"  You  have  no  right." 

"  Very  well ;  then  I'll  go  with  her  to  her  cabin." 

"  My  dear  sister,"  said  Mrs.  Whately,  putting  her  hand 
on  the  irate  lady's  arm,  "  I  think  it  will  be  better  to  let  our 
niece  have  her  way  in  such  little  things.  We  must  remember 
that  she  is  no  longer  a  child." 

"I  think  she  is  acting  like  a  very  perverse  and  foolish 
one ;  but  then  rather  than  have  any  more  scenes  " —  and 
looking  unutterable  things  she  passed  on  down  the  stairs. 

"  My  dear,  I  wish  to  see  you  by  and  by.  Won't  you  let 
me?  "  said  Mrs.  Whately. 

"  I  wish  to  see  you —  I  must  see  you  before  I  sleep,"  re- 
plied the  girl,  decisively. 

"  I'll  come  up  soon,  then,  dear." 

Mrs.  Baron  reported  to  her  husband  what  had  occurred, 
but  he  only  groaned.  He  was  scarcely  able  to  do  much  else 
now. 


?8  "M/SS  LOU." 

"  Oh,  hang  it !  "  exclaimed  Whately,  "  what  fiend  directs 
my  luck  this  evening?  If  I  had  only  known  she  had  gone 
to  the  cabin,  I  could  have  compelled  her  to  listen  to  me 
and  to  my  apologies." 

"  No  worse  luck  could  have  happened,"  said  his  mother, 
entering.  "  You  must  curb  your  impatience,  and  so  —  par- 
don me  for  saying  it  —  must  you,  brother  and  sister.  You 
are  driving  the  girl  to  lengths  she  would  never  have  thought 
of  going.  She  is  excited  and  almost  beside  herself.  You 
forget,  brother,  that  she  is  a  Southern  girl  and  a  Baron,  and 
has  all  the  spirit  of  our  race.  She  is  one  to  be  coaxed,  to 
yield  to  gentle  pressure  and  firm  reasoning,  and  not  to  be 
driven." 

"  Oh,  curse  it !  we've  made  a  mess  of  it,  I  fear,"  groaned 
Whately,  who  was  capable  of  violent  alternations  of  mood, 
and  now  was  in  the  valley  of  humiliation  and  almost  de- 
spair. 

"  Well,  you  must  all  let  me  manage  a  little  now,"  resumed 
Mrs.  Whately,  somewhat  complacently,  "  or  else  there  is  no 
telling  what  trouble  you  may  have." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  her  son, "  I  insist  on  mother's  managing. 
She  has  always  obtained  what  I  wanted,  and  I  shall  certainly 
throw  my  life  away  if  I  don't  marry  Cousin  Lou." 

"Madison,"  said  his  mother,  tearfully,  "am  I,  who  have 
so  loaded  you  with  kindness,  of  no  account?  " 

"  Oh,  forgive  me,  mother,  I  can't  do  any  thing  but  blunder 
to-night.  I'm  all  broken  up,  distracted  by  conflicting  duties 
and  feelings.  I  picked  up  important  information  this  even- 
ing. The  Yankee  column,  halting  in  the  rich  valley  to  the 
northwest,  have  been  ranging  the  country  far  and  near,  load- 
ing their  wagons  and  resting  their  horses.  They  will  make 
a  move  soon,  and  will  come  this  way  just  as  likely  as  not. 
Our  forces  are  coming  up  from  the  South,  and  there  certainly 
will  be  a  fight  soon  somewhere  in  this  region.     I  received  a 


A   BAFFLED  DIPLOMATIST.  79 

secret  despatch  at  the  court-house,  after  seeing  the  minister, 
who  will  be  here  early  to-morrow  evening.  After  the 
wedding  I  intend  to  escort  mother  and  my  wife  south  to 
Cousin  Sam  Whately's.  They  certainly  will  be  out  of  the 
Yankee  line  of  march  there.  Perhaps  you  and  aunt  had 
better  go  too." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Baron.  "  I  intend  to  stay  and  face  it 
out  here.     I  shall  stand  or  fall  on  my  own  hearth." 

"  And  I  shall  remain  with  my  husband,"  added  Mrs.  Baron, 
firmly. 

"  Well,  nothing  worse  may  happen  than  a  general  sack  of 
the  place,  but  I  cannot  leave  mother  and  the  girl  who  is  to 
be  my  wife.  I  shall  ride  over  to  our  place  in  the  morning 
for  the  best  horse  on  it,  and  to  see  the  overseer.  I'll  bring 
back  a  few  papers  which  I  will  put  in  your  charge,  uncle." 

Thus  they  discussed  the  emergency  till  Mrs.  Whately 
thought  she  could  venture  to  Miss  Lou's  room.  Her  son 
accompanied  her  to  the  door  and  called  out,  "  I  give  you 
my  word,  cousin,  that  Aun'  Jinkey  can  go  to  her  cabin,  and 
that  no  one  shall  disturb  her ; "  then  he  retreated  to  the 
parlor  again. 

When  Mrs.  Whately  entered  the  room,  she  witnessed  what 
was  not  reassuring.  Miss  Lou's  white  shoulder  was  bare, 
and  upon  it  was  the  long  red  mark  of  the  whip.  Aun' 
Jinkey  was  bathing  the  bruise  with  some  lotion.  "  My  poor 
child!"  said  the  lady,  " Madison  is  almost  beside  himself 
with  grief  and  self-reproach." 

"  Please  tell  him,"  replied  the  girl,  "  that  I'm  glad  the 
blow  fell  on  me  instead  of  mammy." 

"Ah,  well,  my  dear,  he  has  asked  forgiveness  and  is 
profoundly  sorry." 

"  Hit  soon  be  well,  honey.  Wish  ter  grashus  hit  wuz  me 
dat  hab  it  !  en  you  barin'  hit  so  patient,  too,  w'en  I  smokin'. 
Dar,  I  kiver  hit  up  now,  en  hit  ain'  dar  in  de  mawnin'.     I 


80  "MISS  LOU." 

reck'n  I  go  back  ter  de  cabin  now,  honey.  I  kin'er  used 
ter  my  own  chimbly  corner.  Miss  Whately  got  sump'n  ter 
say  ter  comfort  you." 

"  Very  well,  mammy.  I'll  see  that  you  have  no  trouble," 
and  the  old  woman  departed. 

"Surely,  Louise,  you  cannot  expect  any  more  trouble, 
after  my  son  has  said  there  would  not  be  any,"  said  Mrs. 
Whately,  in  a  somewhat  aggrieved  tone. 

"You  must  have  seen,"  was  the  reply,  "that  Cousin 
Madison  hasn't  just  the  kind  of  self-control  which  inspires 
confidence." 

"I  assure  you,  Louise,  that  he  regrets  his  act  as  much 
as  you  can.  You  should,  in  charity,  remember  his  great 
provocation." 

"  Well,  then,"  Miss  Lou  burst  out,  "  let  him  make  amends. 
Here  I  am,  a  defenceless  girl,  with  all  my  kindred  against 
me.     He  should  be  the  first  to  defend  me." 

"  So  he  wishes  to  do,  my  dear ;  and  he  only  craves  the 
most  sacred  right  to  defend  you." 

"Yes,  in  his  own  way,  and  without  any  regard  to  my 
feelings  and  wishes." 

"Indeed,  my  dear,  you  misjudge  him.  You  have  only 
to  yield  one  point  in  order  to  make  him  a  slave  to  your 
wishes." 

"  But  that  is  yielding  every  thing.  Oh,  aunt,  how  can  you 
urge  a  girl  towards  a  loveless  marriage?" 

"Now,  my  dear,  just  listen  patiently  to  me  for  a  few 
moments,"  began  Mrs.  Whately  in  a  wheedling  tone.  "  1 
am  older  than  you  are.  I  know  young  girls  are  apt  to  have 
romantic  notions,  but  when  they  reach  my  age  they  find  that 
it  is  ever  best  to  act  in  view  of  good  and  sufficient  reasons. 
Apart  from  the  terrible  emergency  that  is  upon  us,  you 
know  that  we  all  have  had  our  hearts  set  on  this  marriage 
almost  ever  since  you  were  born,  and  we  have  made  no 


A  BAFFLED  DIPLOMATIST.  8 1 

secret  of  the  fact.  It  would  be  a  terrible  disappointment 
to  us  if  it  should  not  take  place.  I  fear  that  life  has  been 
too  strict  and  narrow  for  you  here,  but  you  know  that  in 
my  home  you  will  dwell  in  an  atmosphere  of  kindness  and 
indulgence.  I  will  give  up  to  you  whenever  you  are  ready 
to  take  the  reins  after  these  sore  troubles  are  over.  But, 
Louise,  you  do  not  realize  that  we  are  in  the  midst  of  a 
terrible  emergency.  You  ought  not  to  remain  here.  Madi- 
son has  arranged  that  we  both  go  south  to  his  cousin 
Sam's." 

"  I  don't  wish  to  go ! "  cried  the  girl,  wringing  her 
hands. 

"  Now,  my  dear,  can't  you  just  believe  that  we,  who  are 
more  experienced  and  know  the  danger,  wish  to  do  what  is 
best  for  you  and  what  you  will  soon  see  was  best  ?  " 

"  No,  I  cannot !  I  cannot !  I  just  feel  that  I  can't 
marry  my  cousin  without  perjuring  myself." 

"  Surely  you  don't  love  any  one  else,  Louise  ?  " 

"What  chance  have  I  had  to  love  any  one,  except  my 
old  mammy?  I  don't  know  any  thing  about  the  love  which 
I  feel  should  lead  to  marriage.  I  have  just  been  treated 
like  a  child,  and  then  without  any  girlhood  at  all  I'm  to  be 
married  to  one  that  I  shrink  from.  I  feel  in  my  very  soul 
that  it's  all  wrong  and  unjust." 

"  But,  my  dear,  you  won't  feel  so  after  you  are  a  wife  and 
safe  in  your  own  home.  You  will  then  feel  that  you  have 
reached  woman's  true  place  and  sphere,  without  incurring 
the  risks  and  misfortunes  which  befall  so  many.  Your  guard- 
ians might  have  shown  more  tact,  perhaps,  but  they  meant 
well,  and  they  wish  you  well,  and  are  seeking  only  your  wel- 
fare. They  feel  in  honor  bound  to  do  what  is  best  for  you, 
and  not  what,  in  your  inexperience,  you  may  wish  at  the 
moment.  As  for  my  son,  a  warmer-hearted  fellow  does  not 
breathe.     Me  loves  you  fondly.    You  can  influence  him,  you 


82  "MISS  LOU." 

can  control  him  as  no  other  can,  you  have  the  strongest  hold 
upon  him." 

"  Alas  !  "  said  the  girl,  divining  the  ultimate  truth,  "  you 
love  him  blindly  and  wholly ;  you  would  sacrifice  me,  your- 
self and  every  thing  to  him,  and  because  he  has  always  had 
every  thing  his  own  way,  he  would  have  me  in  spite  of  the 
whole  protest  of  my  being.  No  one  truly  cares  for  me ;  no 
one  understands  me.  I  have  been  thrown  back  upon  books 
and  my  own  nature  for  such  knowledge  as  I  now  so  desper- 
ately need,  and  I  feel  that  if  I  am  false  to  my  interests,  to  what 
I  believe  is  right,  my  life  is  spoiled.  I  don't  wish  to  marry 
any  one,  and  as  to  all  these  dangers  you  so  vaguely  threaten, 
I  believe  that  if  there  is  a  good  God,  he  will  take  care  of 
me." 

"Well,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Whately,  striving  to  hide  the 
fact  that  she  was  baffled,  "  we  won't  talk  any  more  about  it 
to-night.  You  are  excited  and  worried,  and  incapable  of 
wise  judgment.  Rest  and  sleep  are  what  you  need  now," 
and  she  kissed  the  girl,  who  did  not  return  the  caress. 

"Wise  judgment!"  she  muttered,  bitterly,  "what  fine 
words  they  use  1  So  you,  too,  are  hopelessly  against  me. 
You  would  give  me  to  your  son  just  as  you  used  to  give  him 
every  thing  he  cried  for  when  a  child.  Well,  then,  I'll  appeal 
to  the  minister  himself.  I  don't  believe  he  can  marry  me 
against  my  will.  At  any  rate,  I  shall  never  give  my  consent, 
never;  and  perhaps  somebody  may  come  in  time.  My 
people  are  teaching  me  to  fear  them  even  more  than  the 
Yankees." 


AUN'  JINKEY'S    WARNING.  83 


CHAPTER  XI. 

aun'  jinkey's  warning. 

THE  night  passed  like  a  lull  in  the  storm.  Perkins 
reported  that  the  negroes  were  quiet,  contenting  them- 
selves with  whispering  and  watchfulness.  Aun'  Jinkey 
smoked  and  dozed  in  her  chair,  listening  to  every  sound, 
but  no  "  squinch-owl "  renewed  her  fears.  The  family  at 
the  mansion  were  too  perturbed  to  sleep  much,  for  all  knew 
that  the  morrow  must  bring  decisive  events.  The  three 
soldiers  sent  after  the  recreant  trooper  returned  from  a 
bootless  chase  and  were  allowed  to  rest,  but  Whately  saw  to 
it  that  there  was  a  vigilant  watch  kept  by  relief  of  guards  on 
the  part  of  the  others.  He  was  not  very  greatly  encouraged 
by  his  mother's  report,  but  as  the  hours  passed  the  habits  of 
his  life  and  the  tendencies  of  his  nature  asserted  themselves 
with  increasing  force.  He  would  marry  his  cousin  on  the 
morrow ;  he  would  not  be  balked  in  his  dearest  hope  and 
wish.  The  very  resistance  of  the  girl  stimulated  his  purpose, 
for  throughout  all  his  life  nothing  so  enhanced  his  desire  for 
any  thing  as  difficulty  and  denial.  The  subduing  the  girl's 
high  spirit  into  subservience  to  his  own  was  in  itself  a  pecul- 
iarly alluring  prospect,  and  he  proved  how  little  he  appre- 
ciated her  character  by  whiling  away  part  of  the  night  over 
Lining  of  the  Shrew."  A  creature  of  fitful  impulse, 
nurtured  into  an  arrogant  sense  of  superiority,  he  banished 
all  compunctions,  persuading  himself  easily  into  the 
belief  that  as  soldier,  officer,  and  lover  he  was  taking  the 


84  "MISS  LOU." 

manly  course  in  going  straight  forward.  "  The  idea  of  con- 
sulting a  whimsical  girl  at  such  a  time,"  he  muttered,  "when 
a  Yankee  horde  may  descend  on  the  plantation  within  forty- 
eight  hours." 

Miss  Lou  was  quite  as  sleepless  as  himself,  and  also  did  a 
great  deal  of  thinking.  She  had  too  much  pride  to  hide 
and  mope  in  her  room.  Her  high,  restless  spirit  craved 
action,  and  she  determined  to  brave  whatever  happened 
with  the  dignity  of  courage.  She  would  face  them  all  and 
assert  what  she  believed  to  be  her  rights  before  them  all, 
even  the  clergyman  himself.  She  therefore  appeared  at  the 
breakfast  table  with  just  enough  color  in  her  cheeks  and  fire 
in  her  eyes  to  enhance  her  beauty. 

"  Ah,  this  is  something  like,"  exclaimed  her  uncle.  *  I 
knew  sleep  and  thought  would  bring  back  good  sense." 

Mrs.  Whately  kissed  her  effusively  and  Mrs.  Baron  for- 
mally, the  girl  submitting  with  like  mien  in  both  instances. 
Her  cousin,  in  accordance  with  his  mood  and  the  policy  he 
had  adopted,  bowed  gallantly  and  with  a  touch  of  grandilo- 
quence in  his  tone  said,  "  I  again  apologize  before  all  for 
my  most  unfortunate  act  last  evening." 

She  only  bowed  silently  in  reply. 

Then  Whately  assumed  the  air  of  one  who  had  many 
and  weighty  matters  on  his  mind,  his  whole  conversation 
conforming  to  the  accepted  belief  that  they  were  facing  a 
terrible  emergency,  and  that  he,  as  the  practical  head  of  the 
family  at  such  a  time,  must  act  decisively  for  the  best  good 
and  safety  of  all.  "  If  I  could  be  governed  in  this  instance," 
he  said,  "only  by  patriotic  feeling  I  would  advise  the 
destruction  of  all  the  forage  on  the  place  if  convinced  that 
the  Yanks  were  coming  this  way,  but  that  would  incite 
them  to  every  possible  outrage.  Still,  I  truly  believe  that  it 
would  be  best  for  you  and  aunt  to  go  with  us  this  evening." 

"  No,"  said  Mr.  Baron,  "  I've  settled  that." 


A  UN'  JINKEY'S    WARNING.  85 

"  Haven't  you  negroes  that  you  can  trust  to  take  the  stock 
off  into  the  woods  for  concealment?" 

\fter  Chunk's  rascality  I  won't  trust  any  of  them." 

"  Well,  I  shall  adopt  that  plan  at  our  place  this  morn- 
ing and  leave  as  little  of  value  within  reach  as  I  can 
help." 

By  a  sort  of  tacit  agreement  it  was  thought  best  not  to  say 
any  thing  to  Miss  Lou  except  as  Mrs.  Whately  broached  the 
subject,  it  being  believed  that  a  quiet  ignoring  of  her  will 
and  a  manifest  purpose  to  carry  out  their  own  would  have 
the  most  weight  in  breaking  down  her  opposition.  Indeed 
it  was  a  shrewd  policy,  hard  for  the  young  girl  to  bear  up 
against.  Mrs.  Baron  had  been  enjoined  not  to  cross  her 
in  little  things.  The  busy  housekeeper  was  too  preoccupied 
to  do  so  had  she  been  disposed,  but  it  troubled  and  incensed 
the  girl  to  the  last  degree  to  see  her  bustling  about,  prepar- 
ing for  the  wedding  as  if  it  would  take  place  as  a  matter  of 
course.  Mrs.  Whately's  affectionate  smiles  and  encouraging 
words  were  even  harder  to  endure.  That  good  lady 
acted  as  if  Miss  Lou  were  a  timid  and  coy  maiden,  who 
merely  needed  heartening  and  reassuring  in  order  to  face  a 
brief  ordeal,  and  then  all  would  be  well.  Her  cousin  gal- 
lantly lifted  her  hand  to  his  lips  and  then  rode  away  with 
part  of  his  men,  saying  cheerfully,  "  I'll  manage  every  thing 
for  the  best." 

A  vague  terror  seized  upon  the  girl  and  she  again  sought 
the  refuge  of  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin.  She  must  have  some  one 
to  speak  to  who  understood  her,  who  felt  for  her.  She  found 
that  Mrs.  Baron  had  been  there  before  her,  urging  the  com- 
pletion of  certain  tasks.  Indeed,  the  old  woman  was  ironing 
a  white  muslin  dress  which  looked  very  bridal-like.  Miss 
Lou  recognized  it  as  her  own  gown,  which  might  naturally 
be  worn  on  such  an  occasion. 

"  Who  brought  that  here?"  she  asked  quickly. 


86  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Ole  miss,  honey.  She  said  you  cud  war  dis  or  de  one 
you  hab  on,  des  ez  you  pleases." 

"  Aun'  Jinkey,"  said  the  girl  in  an  awed  whisper,  "  do  you 
think  they  can  marry  me  against  my  will?  " 

"  Miss  Lou,  I  declar  ter  you  I'se  been  smokin'  en  pro- 
jeckin'  ober  dat  mos'  all  night." 

"Well?" 

"  Hit  'pears  ter  me  a  orfully  mux-up  question.  Yere  yo' 
gyardins,  ole  mars'r  en  ole  miss.  Dey's  des  had  dere  say 
on  dis  plantashon  sence  I  wuz  a  gyurl.  You  wuz  trus'  ter 
dem  ter  be  took  keer  on  en  you  tole  me  how  he  manage  yo' 
prop'ty.  He  call  you  he  ward.  I  des  dunno  w'at  po'r  dat 
ward  business  gib  'im.  I'se  yeared  en  my  day  ob  young 
gyurls  mar'ed  yere  en  mar'ed  dar  en  dey  ain'  s'ayin'  much 
'bout  who  dey  mar'y.  Folks  say  dat  wuz  de  way  wid  ole 
miss.  I  reckermember  dem  days  en  I  year  ole  mars'r's 
fader  talk'n  wid  her  fader  'bout  w'at  dey  call  set'l'ments  en 
po'tions.  Den  ole  miss's  mammy  tole  me  how  her  young 
miss  wuz  cool  ez  a  cowcumber,  en  how  she  say  her  folks 
know  bes'  en  she  sat'sfied ;  en  den  how  she  gib  her  min'  ter 
w'at  she  call  her  trosso.  Why  honey,  I  des  doin'  up  tings 
ob  dat  ar  trosso  yit." 

"  That's  just  the  trouble  with  aunt,"  said  Miss  Lou  scorn- 
fully. "  I  don't  believe  she  ever  had  heart  enough  to  love 
with." 

"  Well,  I  reck'n  ole  mars'r  is  projeckin'  dis  away.  Ole 
miss,  she  settle  down  en  tuck  hole  strong.  She  des  kin'er 
fall  inter  he  ways  en  mek  tings  hum  wid  de  yard  en  house 
folks.  She  des  a  nachel-bawn  housekeeper,  en  we  uns  all 
had  ter  stan'  roun'  en  do  ez  she  sed  sud'n,  we  sutn'y  did ; 
en  ole  mars'r,  he  tink  hit  be  des  de  same  wid  you." 

"But  it  won't,  mammy.     I'm  not  like  my  aunt." 

"  Dat  you  ain',  honey,  bless  de  Lawd  !  Ole  miss  neber 
stan'  'twix  me  en  a  whip,  en  she  neber  run  fer  my  pipe  en  let 


A  UN'  JINKEY'S   WARNING.  87 

her  shol'er  ache  whiles  I  smokes  like  a  ole  himage.     I'se 
only  des  a  s'plainin'  how  dey  feels  'bout  yo'  mar'age." 

"  Ah,  but  mammy,  you  know  how  I  feel  about  it.  I  won't 
marry  my  cousin  if  I  can  help  it." 

"  Hit's  yo'  feelin's,  honey,  w'at  des  riles  up  my  in'erds  so 
I  kyant  hardly  wuk.  Dat's  whar  my  projeckin'  gins  out,  en 
I'se  kin'er  stump'd  'bout  hit.  Dey's  gwine  right  'long  wid 
dere  prep'rations  des  ez  ef  dey  cud  do  ez  dey  pleased. 
Dunno  w'at  de  law  is  'bout  hit  ef  dere  is  any  law  in  dese 
mux-up  times.  I'se  des  took  clar  off  my  foots  wid  all  de 
goin's  on.  De  fiel'-han's  at  de  quarters  is  bilin'  ober  wid 
'citement,  en  dey's  sayin'  de  Linkum  men's  comin'  ter  upset 
ebry  ting.  Whar  dey  get  de  news  fum  I  dunno.  Dey  sez 
ole  mars'r  is  'stracted  en  ole  miss  des  put  her  thin  lips 
tergedder  ez  ef  she  gwine  ter  hab  her  way  ter  de  las'  minit. 
Ez  fer  Marse  Whately,  you  knows  he  al'ays  hab  his  way,  en 
ef  dere  isn't  eny  way  he  mek  it.  You  sez  de  min'ster  en 
folks  is  comin'  ?  Hit  des  stumps  me  fer  dem  ter  go  on  so 
ef  dey  hasn't  de  po'r." 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  girl  desperately,  "  they  will  have 
to  use  force  all  the  way  through.  I'll  never  give  my 
consent." 

"P'raps  w'en  de  min'ster  see  dat  he  woan  mar'y  you." 
"That's  just  my  hope,"  said  the  girl,  "  I  " — 
A  quick  step  was  heard  and  a  moment  later  Mrs.  Baron 
entered  the  cabin.  Ostensibly  she  came  for  some  of  the 
articles  which  Aun'  Jinkey  had  ironed,  but  Miss  Lou  knew 
she  was  under  surveillance  and  she  departed  without  a  word. 
On  entering  her  room  she  found  that  her  little  trunk  had 
been  packed  and  locked  in  her  absence  and  that  the  key 
was  gone.  She  felt  that  it  was  but  another  indignity,  another 
phase  of  the  strong  quiet  pressure  urging  her  towards  the 
event  she  so  dreaded.  A  hunted,  half-desperate  look  came 
into  her  eyes,  but  she  did  not  waver  in  her  purpose. 


88  "MISS  LOU." 

Mrs.  Whately  knocked  but  the  girl  would  not  admit  her. 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Baron  said  to  Aun'  Jinkey  in  parting, 
"  See  to  it  that  you  don't  put  foolish  notions  in  my  niece's 
head.     We  are  none  of  us  in  a  mood  for  trifling  to-day." 

Then  the  old  woman's  wrath  burst  out.  "  You  'speck  I'se 
feared  ter  speak  fer  dat  chile  w'at  stan'  by  me  so  ?  Bettah 
be  keerful  yosef,  mistis;  you  alls  gittin'  on  ve'y  scarey 
groun'  wid  Miss  Lou.  You  tink  you  kin  do  wid  her  w'at 
you  pleases  des  ez  ef  she  a  HI  gyurl  baby.  I  reck'n  her 
moder  come  out'n  her  grabe  ter  look  arter  you  ef  you  ain' 
keerful." 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  such  language  ?  " 

"  I  mean  des  dis,  mistis.  Ef  you  tinks  Miss  Lou  ole 
anuff  ter  mar'y  you  know  she  ain'  a  chile.  Ef  she  ain'  a  chile 
she  a  woman.  Does  you  tink  you  kin  tromple  on  a  woman  ? 
You  kin  tromple  on  me  en  I  ain'  sayin'  not'n,  but  you  kyant 
tromple  on  a  w'ite  woman  like  yosef.  I  tells  you  you  gittin' 
on  scarey  groun'  wid  Miss  Lou." 

"  If  you  both  had  sense  you  would  know  we  are  getting 
her  off  scarey  ground,  as  you  call  it.  All  you  have  to  do  is 
to  obey  my  orders  and  not  meddle." 

"Ve'y  well,  mistis,  I'se  warn  you,"  said  Aun'  Jinkey,  sul- 
lenly returning  to  her  work. 

"Warn  me  of  what?"  But  the  old  woman  would  not 
vouchsafe  another  word. 

Mrs.  Baron  returned  to  the  house,  her  lips  compressed 
with  a  firmer  purpose  to  maintain  discipline  on  deck  till  the 
ship  went  down,  if  that  was  to  be  the  end.  Combined  with 
her  cold,  unimaginative  temperament  was  a  stronger  and 
more  resolute  spirit  than  that  of  her  husband,  who  now  was 
chiefly  governed  by  his  lifelong  habit  of  persistence.  He 
adhered  to  his  purposes  as  a  man  at  sea  clings  to  the  ship 
which  he  feels  is  going  to  pieces  beneath  him. 

Chunk  and  Scoville  reached  the  Union  camp  in  the  gray 


AUfiT  JFNKEY'S   WARNING.  89 

dawn  of  the  morning,  and  the  latter  soon  had  an  audience 
with  the  commanding  officer,  with  whom  he  was  a  favorite 
scout.  The  small  party  which  had  been  compelled  to  leave 
Scoville  behind  had  brought  important  information,  gained 
chiefly  by  the  young  man's  daring  and  address,  and  the 
general  was  very  glad  to  see  him  again  and  to  be  assured 
of  his  escape. 

"  We  are  ready  to  move,"  said  the  commander,  "  and  the 
information  brought  in  by  your  party  has  decided  me  to 
bear  off  to  the  southeast  in  order  to  meet  the  enemy 
approaching  from  the  southwest.  As  soon  as  you  are 
rested,  Lieutenant  Scoville  "  — 

"Sir!  what?" 

"Yes,  I  had  recommended  you  for  promotion  and  the 
order  has  come." 

"  If  zeal  in  your  service,  sir  "  —  began  the  scout,  flushing 
proudly. 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  understand  all  that.  I  remember  the  men 
who  serve  me  well.  As  soon  as  you're  able  to  start  out  in 
the  same  direction  again  I  would  like  you  to  do  so." 

"  I'm  able  now,"  said  Scoville  eagerly,  and  then  he  briefly 
related  the  situation  of  affairs  at  the  Oaks,  concluding,  "  If 
I  had  twenty-five  men  I  believe  I  could  not  only  prevent 
the  marriage  but  capture  all  the  Confederates  with  their 
information.  They  have  been  scouting  up  towards  us  just 
as  we  were  towards  the  enemy." 

"All  right,"  said  the  general,  laughing.  "Perhaps  the 
marriage  may  come  off  yet,  only  with  another  groom." 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Scoville,  gravely.  "  The  girl  befriended 
me  in  my  sore  need.  She  is  as  good  and  innocent  as  a 
child,  and  I  would  shield  and  respect  her  as  I  would  my 
own  sister." 

"  That's  the  right  spirit,  Lieutenant.  I  was  not  sure  how 
for  matters  had  gone  —  in  fact,  was  only  jesting." 


90  "MISS  LOU." 

Scoville  made  a  hearty  breakfast,  and  within  an  hour,  at 
the  head  of  over  a  score  of  men,  was  rapidly  retracing  his 
steps,  Chunk  following  in  a  state  of  wild  elation.  They  both 
had  been  furnished  with  fresh  horses,  and  the  tough,  elastic 
sinews  of  the  newly-fledged  officer  were  tense  with  an 
unwonted  excitement.  If  those  tearful  blue  eyes  of  Miss 
Lou  should  welcome  him  as  deliverer  this  would  be  the 
most  memorable  day  of  his  life. 


A    WHIRLWIND   OF  EVENTS.  9 1 


CHAPTER  XII. 

A  WHIRLWIND  OF   EVENTS. 

WHATELY  returned  wearing  a  rather  gloomy  and 
angry  aspect.  He  had  threatened  his  negroes  and 
stormed  at  them  ;  they  had  listened  in  sullen  silence.  The 
overseer  had  said,  "  Hit's  the  old  story.  They  have  heard 
that  the  Yanks  are  near  and  may  come  this  way.  Fact  is, 
one  doesn't  know  what  they  haven't  heard.  They  hold 
together  and  keep  mum.  You  can  see  that  all  discipline  is 
at  an  end  among  'em." 

VVhately  could  only  give  the  man  such  directions  as  the 
emergency  dictated,  obtain  some  valuables,  and  return 
chafed  and  all  the  more  bent  upon  securing  out  of  the 
possible  wreck  the  one  object  he  most  coveted.  But  Miss 
Lou  puzzled  him  and  perplexed  them  all.  She  had  taken 
refuge  in  almost  absolute  silence,  and  was  as  unresponsive  to 
Mrs.  Whately's  endearments  as  to  her  uncle  and  aunt's 
expostulations,  while  towards  Whately  she  was  positively 
freezing  in  her  coldness.  Troubled  and  inwardly  enraged, 
he  was  yet  more  than  ever  determined  to  carry  out  his  pur- 
pose. His  orders  to  his  men  were  given  sharply  and  sternly, 
and  his  mood  was  so  fierce  that  there  was  no  longer  any 
aflectation  or  assumption  on  his  part.  The  girl's  heart 
fluttered  with  nameless  fears,  but  she  had  the  strength  of 
will  to  maintain  the  cold,  impassive  demeanor  she  had 
>lved  upon.  She  felt  that  it  would  be  useless  to  make 
further  effort  to  influence  her  kindred  and  that  if  she  re- 


92  "MISS  LOU." 

vealed  her  purpose  to  appeal  to  the  clergyman,  they  might 
so  prejudice  his  mind  against  her  that  he  would  not  listen 
favorably.  Fearing  that  this  might  be  the  case  anyway,  she 
found  her  thoughts  turning  with  increasing  frequency  to  the 
possible  intervention  of  the  Union  scout.  She  both  hoped 
for  and  feared  his  coming,  supported  as  he  would  be,  in  this 
instance,  by  followers  who  might  be  so  different  from  him- 
self. She  could  not  free  her  mind  from  the  influence  of 
the  stories  about  Northern  soldiers,  and  yet  she  was  sure 
that  as  far  as  his  power  went,  they  would  all  be  protected. 
Indeed,  one  danger  menaced  so  closely  and  threateningly 
she  could  scarcely  think  of  any  thing  else  than  escape  and 
relief  from  it. 

As  the  sun  began  to  sink  in  the  west  her  uncle  came  to 
her  door  and  said  authoritatively,  "Louise,  I  wish  you  to 
come  down." 

She  obeyed  without  a  word  and  entered  the  parlor  where 
all  were  assembled,  noting  with  dismay  that  the  Rev. 
Dr.  Williams  was  already  present.  Her  cousin  sought  to 
meet  her  gallantly,  but  she  evaded  him  and  took  a  seat. 
Mr.  Baron  began  a  sort  of  harangue.  "  Louise,"  he  said, 
"  as  your  guardian  and  in  obedience  to  my  sense  of  duty  in 
a  great  responsibility,  I  have  approved  of  this  marriage.  I 
am  convinced  that  the  time  will  speedily  come  when  you 
will  be  glad  that  I  —  that  we  all  —  were  firm  at  this  time. 
Both  I  and  your  aunt  are  growing  old.  Troubles,  sore  in- 
deed even  for  the  young  to  endure,  are  upon  us.  I  am  not 
sure  that  a  roof  will  cover  our  gray  hairs  much  longer.  Per- 
haps in  the  dead  of  this  very  night  the  ruthless  enemy  may 
come.  Now,  your  aunt  Whately's  carriage  is  at  the  door. 
A  gallant  soldier  and  a  Confederate  officer,  the  choice  of  all 
your  kindred,  is  eager  to  give  you  his  name  and  loving  pro- 
tection. He  will  take  you  far  away  from  war's  rude  alarms, 
with  its  attendant  and  horrible  perils.    We  have  no  common 


A    WHIRLWIND   OF  EVENTS.  93 

foe  to  deal  with,  but  monsters  animated  by  unquenchable 
hatred  and  a  diabolical  spirit.  I  should  betray  my  trust 
and  be  recreant  to  my  duty  did  I  not  avail  myself  of  the  one 
avenue  of  safety  still  open  to  you.  See,  your  cousin's  brave 
men  are  mounted,  armed,  and  ready  to  act  as  your  escort. 
Dr.  Williams  is  here  to  perform  his  good  offices,  although 
other  invited  friends  have  not  ventured  from  home  in  this 
time  of  peril  which  recent  tidings  prove  to  be  increasing 
every  hour.  In  a  few  moments  you  will  be  an  honored  wife, 
on  your  way  to  a  place  of  refuge,  instead  of  a  helpless  girl 
whose  defenders  may  soon  be  scattered  or  dead." 

"Truly,  Miss  Baron,"  said  the  clergyman,  rising  and  ap- 
proaching, "  you  cannot  hesitate  in  circumstances  like  these." 

Miss  Lou  felt  her  tongue  clinging  to  the  roof  of  her 
mouth,  and  could  only  say  in  a  hoarse  whisper,  "  But  I  do 
not  love  my  cousin —  I  do  not  wish  to  marry." 

"  That  may  be  your  feeling  at  this  moment.  Indeed,  cir- 
cumstances are  not  conducive  to  gentle  amatory  feelings,  and 
all  may  seem  sudden  and  hasty  to  you,  but  you  must  con- 
sider that  your  relatives  in  this  emergency  —  indeed  that  all 
your  neighbors  —  are  doing  many  things  and  taking  many  pre- 
cautions that  would  not  be  thought  of  in  a  time  of  security. 
I  have  already  sent  my  own  family  farther  South,  and  now  in 
your  case  and  Mrs.  Whately's  I  feel  that  time  is  pressing. 
Will  you  please  rise  and  take  your  cousin  by  the  hand?  " 

She  shook  her  head  and  remained  motionless.  Whately 
advanced  decisively,  took  her  hand,  and  sought  gently  to 
draw  her  into  position  before  the  clergyman.  His  touch 
broke  the  spell,  the  paralysis  of  dread,  and  she  burst  out, 
"  No,  no,  you  cannot  marry  me  when  my  whole  soul  pro- 
tests.    I  will  not  be  married  ! " 

"  Louise,  I  command  you,"  began  Mr.  Baron  excitedly. 

"  It  makes  no  difference.  I  will  not !  I  will  not ! "  was  the 
passionate  and  almost  despairing  response. 


94  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Oh  come,  cousin,  you  are  just  excited,  frightened,  and 
off  your  balance,"  said  Whately  soothingly. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Baron,"  added  the  clergyman,  "  let  me 
reassure  you.  It  is  evident  that  you  are  a  little  nervous  and 
hysterical.  Pray  be  calm  and  trust  your  relatives  to  do  what 
is  best  for  you.  I  do  not  wonder  that  your  nerves  have 
given  way  and  that  "  — 

"  My  nerves  have  not  given  way.  Unfriended  child  that 
I  am,  I  must  not  lose  self-control.  God  grant  that  my  will 
does  not  give  way." 

"  Unfriended  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Whately  reproachfully. 
"  Few  girls  in  these  times  have  so  many  to  care  and  think 
for  them.  We  are  all  bent  on  securing  your  welfare  at  every 
cost." 

"  Yes,  at  every  cost  to  me." 

"  Dr.  Williams  sees  the  wisdom  and  reasonableness  of  out 
course.  My  son  is  even  straining  his  sense  of  military  duty 
to  escort  us  to  a  place  of  safety,  where  you  will  still  be 
among  relatives." 

"Then  let  him  escort  me  as  his  cousin,  not  his  wife," 
cried  the  girl. 

"  But,  Miss  Baron,  in  the  turmoil  and  confusion  which 
may  ensue  you  will  be  far  safer  as  his  wife,"  Dr.  Williams 
urged.  "  I  would  have  been  glad  if  I  could  have  given  my 
daughter  like  protection.  Truly,  it  is  not  wise  to  be  swayed 
by  mere  nervous  excitement  at  such  a  time." 

"  Oh,  even  you,  from  whom  I  hoped  so  much,  are  against 
me  ! " 

"  No,  my  dear  child,"  replied  the  minister,  earnestly  and 
sincerely,  "  I  am  for  you  always,  but  I  cannot  help  seeing, 
with  your  relatives,  that  at  present  you  are  not  in  the  quiet 
state  of  mind  which  would  enable  you  to  act  wisely  for  your- 
self. What  earthly  motive  could  I  have  except  your  safety, 
welfare  and  happiness?" 


A    WHIRLWIND   OF  EVENTS.  95 

"  Well,  then,"  said  the  girl,  with  a  swift  glance  around  and 
as  if  turning  into  stone,  "  do  your  worst.  I  will  never  give 
my  consent,  never/" 

They  looked  at  each  other  perplexedly  and  inquiringly,  as 
if  to  ask  what  should  be  done,  when  Perkins  burst  in  at  the 
back  door  of  the  hallway  shouting,  "  The  Yanks  !  " 

The  girl  sunk  into  a  chair  and  covered  her  burning  face 
for  an  instant.  Deep  in  her  soul  she  divined  who  her 
rescuer  was,  yet  in  the  midst  of  her  hope  she  felt  a  certain 
consciousness  of  guilt  and  fear.  Mr.  Baron,  Dr.  Williams, 
and  the  ladies,  half-paralyzed,  yet  drawn  by  a  dreadful  fasci- 
nation, approached  the  open  windows.  Mad  Whately  now 
played  a  better  part.  He  was  in  full  uniform  and  his  horse 
stood  saddled  without.  He  went  to  it,  mounted  with  almost 
the  swiftness  of  light,  and  was  just  in  time  to  see  the  Feder- 
als sweep  around  the  drive  which  led  to  the  stables.  Scoville 
had  brought  his  little  force  by  the  familiar  way  of  Aun' 
Jinkey's  cabin.  Furious  at  being  forestalled,  and  in  obedi- 
ence to  a  headlong  courage  which  none  disputed,  Whately's 
sabre  flashed  instantly  in  the  rays  of  the  sinking  sun,  and 
his  command,  "  Charge  ! "  rang  clear,  without  a  second's 
hesitancy. 

The  order  echoed  in  the  girl's  heart  and  she  felt  that  she 
had  too  much  at  stake  not  to  witness  the  conflict.  Her  own 
high  spirit  also  prompted  the  act,  and  in  a  moment  she  was 
out  on  the  veranda.  She  saw  her  cousin  spur  directly 
towards  the  leader  of  the  Federals,  in  whom  she  recognized 
the  Union  scout.  His  men  came  galloping  after  him,  but 
:;cd  more  inclined  to  envelop  and  surround  the  Confed- 
erates than  to  engage  in  hand-to-hand  conflicts.  The  latter 
were  experienced  veterans  and  quickly  recognized  that  they 
were  being  overpowered  and  that  there  was  no  use  in  throw- 
ing away  their  lives.  Hasty  shots  were  fired,  a  few  sabres 
clashed,  but  the  demand, "  Surrender  !  "  heard  on  all  sides, 


g6  umiss  lou." 

was  so  well  enforced  by  the  aspect  of  the  situation  that 
compliance  soon  began.  Scoville  and  Whately,  with  those 
immediately  about  them,  maintained  the  conflict.  The  two 
young  officers  were  evenly  matched  as  swordsmen,  although 
the  Federal  was  the  larger,  stronger,  and  cooler  man.  As  a 
result,  their  duel  was  quickly  terminated  by  the  loss  of 
Whately's  sabre,  wrenched  from  his  hand.  Then  the  point 
of  his  foe's  weapon  threatened  his  throat,  and  the  word 
"  Surrender  !  "  was  thundered  in  his  ears. 

Instead  of  complying,  he  fell  from  his  horse  as  if  shot,  lay 
still  an  instant,  and  then  in  the  confusion  of  the  melee  glided 
through  an  adjacent  basement  door  and  disappeared.  See- 
ing him  fall,  his  mother  uttered  a  wild  shriek  and  gave  way 
to  almost  hysterical  grief.  A  backward  glance  revealed  to 
Whately  that  the  fight  was  lost,  or  rather  that  it  had  been 
hopeless  from  the  first,  and  his  one  thought  now  was  to 
escape  and  lead  back  a  larger  force  for  the  purposes  of  both 
rescue  and  vengeance.  Gaining  a  rear  door,  a  bound  took 
him  to  some  shrubbery.  A  second  later  he  was  behind  the 
kitchen.  Aun'  Suke  saw  him,  threw  up  her  hands,  and 
uttered  an  inarticulate  cry.  A  moment  or  two  more  and  he 
was  in  the  stable,  leading  out  a  horse.  All  attention  was  now 
so  concentrated  in  front  of  the  mansion  that  he  was  not 
observed.  He  took  only  time  to  slip  on  a  bridle,  then 
springing  on  the  animal's  bare  back,  he  struck  into  a  field 
behind  a  clump  of  trees.  Putting  the  horse  to  a  run,  he  was 
soon  beyond  successful  pursuit.  Some  of  his  own  men  had 
seen  him  fall  before  they  were  driven  back,  and  believed  that 
he  was  either  wounded  or  dead ;  thronging  Federals,  una- 
ware of  the  circumstances,  occupied  the  ground,  and  only 
Miss  Loti,  with  an  immense  burden  lifted  from  her  heart,  saw 
his  ruse  and  flight.  She  wished  him  well  sincerely  if  he 
would  only  leave  her  to  herself.  Hastening  to  Mrs.  Whately 
she  speedily  restored  the  lady  with  assurances  of  her  son's 


A    WHIRLWIND   OF  EVENTS.  97 

escape,  then  with  her  joined  the  group  on  the  veranda.  Mr. 
Baron,  in  the  crisis  of  his  affairs  and  as  the  head  of  the 
family,  maintained  a  dignity  and  composure  which  of  late 
had  been  lacking. 

Scoville  paid  no  heed  to  them  until  every  vestige  of  resist- 
ance had  ceased  and  the  Confederates  were  disarmed  and 
collected  as  prisoners.  Then  sitting  on  his  horse  in  front  of 
the  piazza  steps  he  rapidly  gave  his  orders.  His  first  act  was 
to  send  a  vidette  down  the  avenue  towards  the  main  road ; 
then  he  selected  five  men,  saying,  "Take  charge  of  the 
stables,  barn,  and  out-buildings.  Keep  them  as  they  are 
and  permit  no  one  to  approach  without  my  written  orders." 

At  this  moment  the  field-hands,  who  had  been  surging 
nearer  and  nearer,  sent  forward  a  sort  of  improvised  deputa- 
tion. They  approached  bowing,  with  hats  in  hand  and 
wistful  looks  in  their  eyes.  Were  these  in  truth  the  mes- 
sengers of  freedom  of  whom  they  had  heard  so  much  ?  Mr. 
Saron  almost  gnashed  his  teeth  as  he  witnessed  this  action 
on  the  part  of  his  property. 

"  Mars'r,"  said  the  spokesman,  "  I  reck'n  you  got  good 
news  for  we  uns." 

"Yes,  good  news.  You  are  all  free."  His  words  rang 
out  so  that  they  were  heard  by  every  one.  Shouts  and  cries 
of  exultation  followed  like  an  echo,  and  ragged  hats  were 
tossed  high  in  joy. 

The  young  soldier  raised  his  hand  with  a  warning  and 
repressive  gesture.  In  the  silence  that  ensued  he  added, 
"  My  men  here  are  both  free  and  white,  yet  they  must  obey 
orders.  So  must  you.  Go  back  to  your  quarters  and  prove 
yourselves  worthy  of  freedom  by  quiet  behavior  and  honesty. 
If  I  find  any  one,  black  or  white,  acting  the  part  of  a  thief 
while  I  am  in  charge  it  will  go  hard  with  him.  The  general 
will  be  here  to-morrow  and  he  will  advise  you  further." 

His  words  found  immediate  acceptance,  the  negroes  re- 


98  "MISS  LOU." 

turning  to  the  quarters,  laughing  and  chatting  joyously, 
not  a  few  wiping  tears  of  deep  emotion  from  their  eyes. 
The  long  expected  day  had  come.  They  little  knew  what 
the  future  had  in  store  for  them,  but  this  was  the  beginning 
of  a  new  era  and  the  fulfilment  of  a  great  hope. 

Scoville  now  dismounted  and  gave  the  reins  to  Chunk, 
who  stood  near  with  a  droll  assumption  of  soldier-like  stiff- 
ness and  oblivion  to  all  the  well-known  faces.  Mounting 
the  steps,  cap  in  hand,  the  young  officer  approached  Mr. 
Baron,  who  was  becoming  a  little  assured  that  the  orders 
thus  far  heard  had  not  included  a  general  application  of  the 
torch. 

"Mr.  Baron,  I  presume?"  said  Scoville. 

"  Yes,  sir,"  was  the  stiff  reply. 

"  The  ladies  of  your  household,  I  suppose  ?  " 

"  They  are." 

Scoville  bowed  ceremoniously  to  each,  giving  Miss  Lou 
no  other  sign  of  recognition  than  a  humorous  twinkle  in  his 
eye.  "  Ladies,"  he  began,  "  since  it  is  the  fortune  of  war 
that  I  must  have  command  here  for  a  brief  time,  I  hasten  to 
assure  you  that  we  shall  give  as  little  annoyance  as  possible. 
A  few  men  on  both  sides  were  wounded,  and  I  fear  that  the 
officer  commanding  your  men  was  killed.  At  least  I  saw 
him  fall.  The  night  is  warm  and  still  and  I  can  make  a  hos- 
pital here  on  the  piazza  with  a  little  aid  from  you.  Please  dis- 
miss all  further  fears.  Unless  we  are  attacked,  the  night  shall 
pass  quietly.  Each  and  every  one  will  be  treated  with 
respect  and  courtesy.  I  must  request  of  you,  however,  sir," 
addressing  Mr.  Baron,  "  food  for  myself  and  men  and  forage 
for  our  horses." 

"  I  suppose  you  will  take  them  anyway,"  growled  the 
unwilling  host. 

"  Certainly,"  replied  Scoville,  giving  him  a  steady  look. 
"  Do  you  expect  us  to  go  hungry?     I  shall  do  my  duty  as  a 


A    WHIRLWIND   OF  EVENTS.  99 

soldier  and  an  officer,  as  well  as  deport  myself  as  a  gentle- 
man." 

There  was  nothing  left  for  Mr.  Baron  but  to  give  his 
directions  to  Perkins,  or  for  the  ladies  but  to  make  prepara- 
tions for  the  improvised  hospital.  Miss  Lou  gratefully  rec- 
ognized that  Scoville  did  not  intend  to  compromise  her  in 
the  least  nor  reveal  his  previous  acquaintance  unless  it  should 
become  known  through  no  fault  of  his.  She  lingered  a 
moment  as  Dr.  Williams  stepped  forward  and  asked,  "May 
I  be  permitted  to  return  to  my  home?" 

"  I  trust  so,  certainly,  sir,  but  my  duty  requires  brief  ex- 
planation on  your  part  and  pledges  that  you  will  take  no 
hostile  action.     We  are  not  among  friends  you  know." 

"  I  can  very  readily  account  for  myself,  sir,"  was  the  stiff 
response.  "  I  was  summoned  here  to  perform  a  wedding 
ceremony  which  your  most  inopportune  arrival  prevented. 
I  am  a  man  of  peace,  not  of  war,  yet  I  can  not  and  will  not 
give  any  pledges." 

"It  is  scarcely  fair  then,  sir,  for  you  to  take  refuge  in 
your  calling,  but  I  will  waive  that  point.  I  must  warn  you, 
however,  that  we  can  give  protection  to  those  only  who  do 
not  seek  to  harm  us.  You  are  at  liberty.  Good-evening, 
sir." 

He  had  extracted  from  the  clergyman  the  fact  that  he 
had  arrived  in  time,  and  he  again  gave  the  girl  in  the  door- 
way a  mirthful  glance,  then  turned  on  his  heel  to  attend  to 
his  military  duties. 

Miss  Lou  hastened  to  her  room  with  hot  cheeks. 


IOO  "MISS  LOCI." 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE  UNEXPECTED   HAPPENS. 

SCOVILLE  soon  learned  that  his  opponent,  so  far  from 
being  killed  or  even  wounded,  had  escaped.  He  was 
not  much  worried  by  this  fact,  believing  that  before  the 
Confederate  officer  could  reach  his  friends  and  bring  back 
an  attacking  force,  the  Federal  column  would  be  on  the 
ground.  Indeed,  he  was  glad  that  the  family  upon 
which  he  had  quartered  himself  could  not  associate  him 
with  so  terrible  a  calamity.  The  young  girl  might  not  wish 
to  marry  her  cousin,  yet  be  sorry  if  he  were  fatally  or  even 
seriously  wounded,  while  the  rest  of  the  household  would 
be  plunged  in  the  deepest  distress.  Although  a  resolute 
soldier,  Scoville  was  a  kind-hearted  fellow,  and  disposed  to 
take  the  most  genial  views  of  life  that  circumstances  per- 
mitted. There  was  a  humor  about  his  present  situation 
which  he  relished  exceedingly.  He  was  buoyant  over  the 
interrupted  wedding,  and  bent  upon  disappointing  Mr.  Baron 
in  all  his  grewsome  expectations  in  regard  to  the  Yankees. 
There  should  be  discipline,  order,  quiet,  and  an  utter 
absence  of  all  high-tragedy.  He  cautioned  his  men  against 
the  slightest  tendency  to  excess,  even  forbidding  the  chaff- 
ing of  the  negroes  and  noisiness.  A  steer,  a  pig,  and  some 
fowls  were  killed  for  supper,  and  the  wood  for  cooking  it 
was  taken  from  an  ample  pile  in  the  rear  of  the  house. 
Happily,  none  were  seriously  wounded,  and  being  veterans 
were  able  to  do  much  for  one  another,  while  an  elderly  man 


THE    UNEXPECTED   HAPPENS.  IOI 

in  the  troop  who  had  some  rude  surgical  experience,  supple- 
mented their  efforts.  Miss  Lou  speedily  joined  her  aunts  in 
rummaging  for  old  linen  for  bandages,  and  the  performance 
of  humane  duty  by.  the  elderly  ladies  dulled  the  edge  of  the 
terrible  truth  that  they  were  in  the  hands  of  the  Yankees. 
True,  they  had  to  admit  to  themselves  that  the  young  soldier 
did  not  appear  like  a  "  ruthless  monster  "  and  that  his  con- 
duct thus  far  had  been  almost  ceremoniously  polite  ;  yet  all 
this  might  be  but  a  blind  on  the  part  of  a  cunning  and 
unscrupulous  foe. 

When  they  came  down  to  the  veranda  with  the  materials 
required,  the  unscrupulous  foe  met  them,  cap  in  hand, 
thanked  them  courteously,  and  gave  his  entire  attention  to 
the  wounded,  treating  the  men  of  both  sides  alike.  Mrs. 
Whately,  in  glad  reaction  from  overwhelming  fear  concern- 
ing her  son's  safety,  offered  her  services  in  behalf  of  the  few 
wounded  Confederates  and  they  were  readily  accepted. 
Before  she  was  aware  of  it  she  found  herself  conferring  with 
the  young  officer  and  the  surgical  trooper  in  regard  to  the 
best  treatment  of  the  injuries.  Having  long  been  mistress 
of  a  plantation  and  accustomed  to  act  promptly  when  any  of 
her  slaves  were  hurt,  she  now  proved  a  valuable  auxiliary. 
When  the  soldiers  with  whom  she  sympathized  were  attended 
to,  her  kindness  of  heart  led  her  on  to  the  Federals,  who 
thanked  her  as  gratefully  as  if  they  were  not  depraved 
Yankees. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Baron  had  retired  to  the  parlor,  where  they 
sat  in  state,  awaiting  in  gloomy  fortitude  the  darker  devel- 
opments of  what  they  deemed  the  supreme  tragedy  of  their 
lives.  Miss  Lou  was  flitting  in  and  out,  getting  lint  and 
other  articles  required  by  Mrs.  Whately.  She  found  it  no 
easy  matter  to  maintain  the  solemnity  of  aspect  which  her 
guardians  thought  appropriate  to  the  occasion,  but  was 
assisted  in  this  effort  by  her  genuine  pity  for  the  wounded. 


102  "MISS  LOU." 

In  her  joyous  relief  at  escape  from  a  hated  union  her  heart 
was  light  indeed.  She  had,  moreover,  no  slight  sense  of 
humor,  and  was  just  bubbling  over  with  mirth  at  the  fact 
that  although  the  Yankee  monsters,  from  whom  it  was  said 
she  must  be  rescued  at  every  cost,  were  masters  of  the 
situation,  they  were  engaged  in  nothing  more  ruthless  than 
feeding  their  horses,  preparing  supper,  and  caring  for  the 
wounded.  The  most  delicious  thing  of  all  was  that  one  of 
the  chief  prophets  of  evil,  her  Aunt  Whately,  was  aiding  in 
the  last-named  task.  Her  exultation  was  increased  when 
she  brought  the  last  article  required  and  Scoville  said  with 
his  genial  smile,  so  well  remembered,  "  I  think  I  can  assure 
you  now,  Miss  Baron,  that  all  will  do  very  well.  We  are 
deeply  indebted  to  this  lady  (bowing  to  Mrs.  Whately) 
whose  services  have  been  as  skilful  as  humane." 

Now  one  of  the  things  on  which  Mrs.  Whately  most 
prided  herself  was  the  generally  accepted  belief  that  she 
was  as  good  as  a  country  physician  in  an  emergency,  and 
she  could  not  refrain  from  a  slight  and  gracious  acknowledg- 
ment of  Scoville's  words.  As  they  drew  near  to  the  door 
she  said  hesitatingly,  "  Perhaps,  sir,  I  should  make  an 
acknowledgment  of  deep  indebtedness  to  you.  I  saw  your 
sabre  raised  and  pointed  at  my  son's  throat.  Could  you 
not  have  killed  him  had  you  so  wished?" 

"  Ah  !  this  is  Mrs.  Whately.  Believe  me,  madam,  we  are 
not  so  bloodthirsty  as  to  wish  to  kill,  or  even  to  injure, 
except  so  far  as  the  necessities  of  war  require.  If  you  wit- 
nessed the  brief  conflict  you  must  have  observed  that  my 
effort  was  to  capture  rather  than  to  destroy  your  son's 
force." 

"We  all  could  not  help  seeing  that,"  cried  Miss  Lou 
eagerly. 

"  I  could  not  help  seeing  also,  Miss  Baron,  that  you  ex- 
posed yourself  to  danger  like  a  veteran,  and  I  was  anxious 


THE    UNEXPECTED  HAPPENS.  103 

indeed  lest  a  stray  bullet  might  harm  you.  It  was  well  you 
were  not  armed  or  we  might  have  fared  worse,"  and  there 
was  so  much  mirth  in  his  dark  eyes  that  she  turned  away  to 
hide  her  conscious  blushes. 

"  Well,  sir,"  resumed  Mrs.  Whately  with  emotion,  "  it  is 
not  easy  to  bless  our  enemies  in  this  cruel  war  of  aggression, 
but  I  must  express  my  gratitude  to  one  who  stayed  his  hand 
when  my  son's  life  was  within  his  power." 

"  I  trust,  madam,  he  may  live  to  care  for  you  in  your 
declining  years,  and  to  become  a  good  loyal  citizen." 

"  He  is  loyal,  sir,"  replied  Mrs.  Whately  with  gentle  dig- 
nity, "  to  the  only  authority  he  recognizes,"  and  with  a  bow 
she  retired. 

Miss  Lou  lingered  a  moment  and  said  earnestly,  "  I  thank 
you.     You  are  very  considerate." 

His  face  so  lighted  up  that  it  was  almost  boyish  in  its 
expression  of  pleasure  as  he  answered  with  the  pride  and 
confidence  of  one  sure  of  sympathy,  "  This  is  a  jolly  day  for 
me.  I  was  made  an  officer  this  morning,  and  now,  best  of 
all,  I  am  paying  a  little  of  my  debt  to  you." 

She  put  her  finger  on  her  lips  and  shook  her  head,  but 
the  smile  she  gave  him  over  her  shoulder  was  reassuring. 
He  promptly  started  on  a  round  among  his  men  again  to 
see  that  the  prisoners  were  properly  guarded,  and  that  all 
was  going  as  he  wished. 

"  Louise,"  said  Mrs.  Baron,  as  the  girl  appeared  in  the 
parlor  door,  "  it  would  be  far  more  decorous  if  you  would 
remain  here  with  your  uncle  and  myself." 

Miss  Lou  took  a  seat  in  the  darkest  corner  that  she  might 
be  less  open  to  observation  while  she  calmed  the  tumult  of 
her  feelings.  So  much  had  happened  that  she  must  catch 
her  breath  and  think  what  it  all  meant.  Mr.  Baron  began 
gloomily,  ."  Well,  the  dreaded  hour  which  I  hoped  and 
prayed  never  to  see  has  come.     We  are  helpless  and  in  the 


104  "MISS  LOU." 

hands  of  our  enemies.  Only  God  knows  what  an  hour  will 
bring  forth  "  — 

"  He  has  brought  deliverance,"  cried  Mrs.  Whately,  enter- 
ing. "  I  questioned  Aun'  Suke,  thinking  that  she  might 
have  seen  Madison  if  he  left  the  house.  She  did  see  him 
safe  and  sound.  She  also  saw  him  get  a  horse  and  ride 
away." 

"  Ah,  poor  boy !  how  different  was  his  departure  from 
what  he  had  every  reason  to  hope  and  expect ! "  replied  Mr. 
Baron.  "I  should  think  your  heart  would  be  remorseful, 
indeed,  Louise,  when  you  picture  your  cousin  flying  from 
his  kindred  and  home,  alone  and  sad,  tortured  meanwhile 
by  thoughts  of  the  fate  which  has  overtaken  us." 

"  I'm  sure,  uncle,  we  are  all  sitting  quietly  in  the  parlor. 
That  does  not  seem  very  dreadful." 

"You  little  know,  young  woman,  you  little  realize  the 
cunning  depravity"  — 

"There  now,  brother,"  interposed  Mrs.  Whately,  "we 
must  not  think  evil  until  we  see  more  evidence  of  it,  even 
in  Yankees.  I  admit  that  I  am  most  wonderfully  and 
agreeably  disappointed.  The  young  officer  in  whose  hands 
we  are  might  have  killed  my  son,  but  did  not.  I  must  at 
least  be  just  to  such  a  man." 

"  And  you  know  he  has  been  polite  to  us  all,  and  told  us 
to  dismiss  our  fears,"  added  Miss  Lou  demurely. 

"  It  would  almost  seem,  Louise,  that  you  welcomed  these 
invaders.  *  I  am  too  old  and  well  informed  not  to  know  that 
this  suave  manner  he  affects  is  designed  to  lull  us  into  a 
sense  of  false  security." 

At  this  moment  a  firm  step  was  heard  on  the  veranda, 
followed  by  a  rap  from  the  brass  knocker.  They  knew  it 
was  Scoville,  and  Mr.  Baron  rose  and  advanced  to  the  parlor 
entrance.  He  assumed  the  solemn  aspect  of  on«  who  now 
must  face  the  exactions  and  wrongs  which  he  had  predicted, 


THE    UNEXPECTED   HAPPENS.  105 

and  his  wife  tremblingly  followed,  to  perish  at  his  side  if 
need  be.  But  the  invader  barely  stepped  within  the  hall 
and  stood  uncovered  as  he  said  politely,  "  Mr.  Baron,  I  have 
now  practically  made  my  dispositions  for  the  night.  There 
is  no  reason  why  your  domestic  routine  should  not  be 
resumed  as  usual.  As  I  said  before,  I  pledge  you  my  word 
you  shall  not  be  disturbed  unless  we  are  attacked.  Good- 
evening,  sir.  Good-evening,  ladies,"  and  he  bowed  and 
withdrew,  leaving  the  old  gentleman  speechless  in  the  utter 
reversal  of  all  that  he  had  declared  would  take  place.  No 
plundering,  no  insults,  no  violence.  On  the  contrary,  even 
his  beloved  routine  might  be  resumed.  He  turned  around 
to  his  wife  and  sister  almost  gasping,  "  Is  this  some  deep- 
laid  plot?" 

"  It  certainly  must  be,"  echoed  his  wife. 

Miss  Lou  turned  away  quickly  and  stuffed  her  handker- 
chief in  her  mouth  to  prevent  laughing  outright. 

Her  uncle  caught  her  in  the  act  and  was  instantly  in  a 
rage. 

"  Shame  upon  you  ! "  he  cried.  "  Enemies  without  and 
traitors  within." 

This  charge  touched  the  girl  to  the  quick  and  she  replied 
with  almost  equal  anger,  "  I'm  no  traitor.  Where  has  your 
loyalty  to  me  been  to-day?  Look  at  me,  uncle,  and  fix  the 
fact  in  your  mind,  once  for  all,  that  I  am  neither  a  child  nor 
an  idiot.  God  has  given  me  a  mind  and  a  conscience  as 
truly  as  to  you,  and  I  shall  use  them.  This  Northern  officer 
says  we  are  safe.  I  believe  it  and  you  will  know  it  in  the 
morning.  Now  I  simply  insist  that  you  and  aunt  treat  me 
with  the  respect  due  to  my  years  and  station.  I've  endured 
too  much  to-day  to  be  patient  under  any  thing  more.  I 
meant  no  disrespect  to  you  in  laughing,  but  I  cannot  help 
being  glad  that  instead  of  all  sorts  of  horrible  things  happen- 
ing we  are  treated  with  simple  and  even  delicate  politeness." 


106  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Yes,  brother,"  added  Mrs.  Whately,  "  as  far  as  this  man 
is  concerned,  you  must  revise  your  opinions.  There  is  no 
deep-laid  plot  —  nothing  but  what  is  apparent.  I  must  also 
urge  upon  you  and  sister  a  change  in  your  treatment  of 
Louise.  She  will  be  far  more  ready  to  fulfil  our  hopes  when 
led  by  affection." 

"  Well,  well,  that  I  should  live  to  see  this  day  !  "  groaned 
Mr.  Baron.  "  My  ward  virtually  says  that  she  will  do  as  she 
pleases.  The  slaves  have  been  told  that  they  are  free  and 
so  can  do  as  they  please.  Henceforth  I  suppose  I  am  to 
speak  to  my  niece  with  bated  breath,  and  be  at  the  beck 
and  call  of  every  Sambo  on  the  place." 

"  You  are  not '  weltering  in  your  own  blood,'  uncle,  and 
the  '  roof  is  not  blazing  over  our  heads,'  "  replied  Miss  Lou 
quietly.  "  You  have  merely  been  told  that  you  could  have 
supper  when  it  pleased  you  and  then  sleep  in  peace  and 
safety.  Aunt,  I  will  thank  you  for  the  key  of  my  trunk.  I 
wish  to  put  my  things  back  in  their  places." 

Mrs.  Baron  took  it  from  her  pocket  without  a  word,  and 
Miss  Lou  went  to  her  room. 

True  to  her  nature,  Mrs.  Whately  began  to  pour  oil  on 
the  lacerated  feelings  of  her  brother  and  sister-in-law. 
"  Louise  is  right,"  she  said.  "  Things  are  so  much  better 
than  we  expected  —  than  they  might  have  been,  that  we 
should  raise  our  hearts  in  thankfulness.  Just  think  !  If  this 
Northern  officer  is  what  you  fear,  why  would  he  have  spared 
my  son,  whom  he  might  have  killed  in  fair  battle?  In  his 
conduct  towards  the  wounded  he  showed  a  good,  kindly 
spirit.  I  can't  deny  it ;  and  he  has  been  as  polite  to  us  as 
one  of  our  own  officers  could  have  been.  Think  how  dif- 
ferent it  all  might  have  been  —  my  brave  son  desperately 
wounded  or  dead,  and  unscrupulous  men  sacking  the  house  ! 
I  need  not  refer  to  darker  fears.  I  must  say  that  I  feel  like 
meeting  courtesy  with  courtesy.    Since  this  Yankee  behaves 


THE    UNEXPECTED  HAPPENS.  107 

like  a  generous  foe  I  would  like  to  prove  that  Southern  rebels 
and  slave-drivers,  as  we  are  called,  can  equal  him  in  all  the 
amenities  of  life  which  the  situation  permits." 

"  O  sister  !  "  cried  Mrs.  Baron,  "  even  a  cup  of  tea  would 
choke  me  if  I  drank  it  in  his  presence." 

But  Mr.  Baron  had  lighted  his  pipe,  and  reason  and 
Southern  pride  were  asserting  themselves  under  its  soothing 
influence.  At  last  he  said,  "  Well,  let  us  have  supper  any- 
way.    It  is  already  after  the  hour." 

"Supper  has  been  ready  this  long  time,  as  you  know," 
replied  his  wife,  "  only  I  never  dreamed  of  such  a  guest  as 
has  been  suggested." 

"  Of  course,  sister,  I  only  said  what  I  did  as  a  sugges- 
tion," Mrs.  Whately  answered  with  dignity.  "You  are  in 
your  own  home.  I  merely  felt  reluctant  that  this  Yankee 
should  have  a  chance  to  say  that  we  were  so  rude  and 
uncivilized  that  we  couldn't  appreciate  good  treatment  when 
we  received  it.  There's  no  harm  in  gaining  his  good  will, 
either,  for  he  said  that  his  general,  with  the  main  force, 
would  be  here  to-morrow." 

"  Mrs.  Baron,"  said  her  husband  in  strong  irritation, 
"don't  you  see  there  is  nothing  left  for  us  to  do?  No 
matter  how  things  turn  out,  the  presence  of  these  Yankees 
involves  what  is  intensely  disagreeable.  If  sister  is  right  in 
regard  to  this  man  —  and  I  suppose  I  must  admit  she  is  till 
I  know  him  better  —  he  has  made  it  necessary  for  our  own 
self-respect  to  treat  him  with  courtesy.  Our  pride  will  not 
permit  us  to  accept  this  from  him  and  make  no  return.  It 
may  be  Yankee  cunning  which  led  him  to  foresee  this,  for 
I  suppose  it  is  pleasing  to  many  of  the  tribe  to  gain  their 
ends  by  finesse.  Probably  if  this  doesn't  secure  them,  he 
will  try  harsher  methods.  Anyway,  as  long  as  he  plays  at 
the  game  of  courtesy,  we,  as  sister  says,  should  teach  him 
that  we  know  what  the  word  means.     The  mischief  is  that 


108  "MISS  LOU." 

you  never  can  know  just  what  a  Yankee  is  scheming  for  or 
aiming  at." 

"  Well,  brother,  supposing  your  words  are  true,  as  I  do 
not  think  they  are  in  this  instance,  it  is  due  to  our  dignity 
that  we  act  like  sincere  people  who  are  above  even  suspect- 
ing unworthy  motives.  We  do  not  compromise  ourselves  in 
the  matter.  We  only  meet  courtesy  with  courtesy,  like 
well-bred  people." 

"  Well,  so  be  it  then.  In  fact,  I  would  like  to  ask  this 
man  what  he  and  those  he  represents  can  hope  to  gain  by 
invasion  equalled  only  by  that  of  the  Goths  and  Vandals." 


A    THREAT.  109 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

A  THREAT. 

THE  moment  Chunk  believed  that  Scoville  could  dispense 
with  his  services  for  a  time  he  made  his  way  promptly 
to  the  back  veranda  and  gave  a  low,  peculiar  whistle  which 
Zany  recognized.  He  had  ceased  in  her  estimation  to  be 
merely  a  subject  for  infinite  jest.  Though  not  very  advanced 
in  the  scale  of  civilization,  she  was  influenced  by  qualities 
which  appealed  to  her  mind,  and  possessed  many  traits  com- 
mon to  her  sex.  His  shrewdness  and  courage  were  making 
good  his  lack  of  inches.  Above  all,  he  was  in  favor  with 
the  "head  Linkum  man,"  and  Zany  belonged  to  that  class 
ever  ready  to  greet  the  rising  sun.  While  all  this  was  true, 
she  could  not  be  herself  and  abandon  her  coquettish  im- 
pulses and  disposition  to  tease.  She  came  slowly  from  the 
dining-room  and  looked  over  Chunk's  head  as  if  she  could 
not  see  him.  Bent  on  retaliation,  he  stepped  behind  her, 
lifted  her  in  his  powerful  arms  and  carried  her  on  a  full  run 
to  some  screening  shrubbery,  the  irate  captive  cuffing  his  ear 
soundly  all  the  way.  Setting  her  down,  he  remarked  quietly, 
"  Now  I  reckon  you  kin  fin'  me." 

"Yo'  wool  git  gray  'fo'  you  fin'  me  agin,"  she  replied, 
making  a  feint  of  starting  for  the  house. 

"  Berry  well,  Miss  Zany.  I  see  you  doan  want  ter  be  a 
free  gyurl.    I'se  tell  Marse  Scoville  you  no  'count  niggah." 

"Wat  you  want  anyhow,  imperdence? " 

"  I  wants  sump'n  ter  eat.    Does  you  'spects  I  kin  ride  all 


IIO  "MISS  LOU." 

night  en  all  day  ter  brung  you  freedom,  en  den  not  eben  git 
a  good  word?  You  ain'  fitter  freedom.  I'se  tell  some 
nachel-bawn  fool  ter  gib  you  a  yaller  rib'on  en  den  dere  be 
two  ob  you." 

"  La  now,  Chunk,"  she  replied,  coming  back,  "  ef  I  wuz 
lookin'  fer  a  fool  I  des  stay  right  yere.  Ef  you  git  a  pa'r  ob 
steps  en  look  in  my  face  you'd  see  I'se  bettah  fren'  ter  you 
ner  you  ter  me.  You  stay  yere  en  I  brings  you  w'at  you 
tink  a  heap  on  mor'n  me,"  and  now  she  darted  away  with 
intentions  satisfactory  to  her  strategic  admirer. 

Chunk  grinned  and  soliloquized,  "  Reck'n  I  kin  fotch  dat 
gyurl  roun'  wid  all  her  contrariations.  I  des  likes  her  skit- 
tishness,  but  I  ain'  tellin'  her  so,  kaze  I  gwine  ter  hab  my 
han's  full  as  'tis." 

Zany  soon  returned  with  a  plate  well  heaped,  for  at  this 
time  her  argus-eyed  mistress  was  sitting  in  the  parlor,  await- 
ing whatever  fate  the  ruthless  Yankees  might  impose.  Chunk 
sat  Turk-fashion  on  the  ground  and  fell  to  as  if  famished, 
meanwhile  listening  eagerly  to  the  girl's  account  of  what  had 
happened  during  his  absence. 

"  Hi !  "  said  Zany  disdainfully,  "  you'd  mek  lub  ter  Aim' 
Suke  ef  she  fed  you." 

"  I  kin  mek  mo'n  lub,"  Chunk  answered,  nodding  at  her 
portentously ;  "  I  kin  mek  mischief." 

"  Reck'n  you  do  dat  anyhow." 

"  See  yere,  Zany,  does  you  tink  Marse  Scoville  a  fool?  " 

"  Ob  co'se  not." 

"  Well,  he  doan  tink  me  a  fool.  Whose  'pinion's  wuth 
de  mos'  ?  Who  took  keer  on  'im  ?  Who  got  'im  off  safe 
right  un'er  de  nose  ob  one  ob  Mad  Whately's  sogers? 
Who  brung  'im  back  des  in  time  ter  stop  dat  ar  mar'age  en 
gib  we  uns  freedom  ?  You  mighty  peart,  but  you  got  a  heap 
ter  larn  'fo'  you  cut  yo'  eye-tooths." 

"Some  folks  gits  dere  eye-tooths  en  doan  git  nuthin'  wid 


A    THREAT.  Ill 

'em,"  Zany  remarked  nonchalantly.  "  I'se  'mit  dough  dat 
you  comin'  on,  Chunk.  Wen  you  gits  growed  up  you'se  be 
right  smart." 

"  I  doan  min'  de  foolishness  ob  yo'  talk,  Zany,"  Chunk 
replied  coolly,  between  his  huge  mouthfuls.  "  Dat's  in  you, 
en  you  kyant  he'p  hit  any  mo'n  a  crow  cawin'.  I'se  alus 
mek  'lowance  fer  dat.  I  des  'proves  dis  'casion  ter  'zort  you 
ter  be  keerful  w'at  you  does.  Dere's  gwine  ter  be  mighty 
ticklish  times  —  sorter  flash-bang  times,  yer  know.  I'se  a 
free  man  —  des  ez  free  as  air,  en  I'se  hired  mysef  ter  Marse 
Scoville  ter  wait  on  'im.  I'se  growed  up  anuff  ter  know  he 
kin  tek  de  shine  off  eny  man  I  eber  see,  or  you  neider.  He 
yo'  boss  now  well  ez  mine.  I'se  gib  'im  a  good  rerport  on 
you  ef  I  kin.  I'se  feard,  howsomeber,  dat  he  say  you  out- 
growed  yo'  sense." 

"Dar  now,  Chunk,  you  puttin'  on  mo'  airs  dan  Marse 
Scoville  hissef.  He  des  ez  perlite  ter  marster  en  ole  miss  ez 
ef  he  come  ter  pay  his  'spects  ter  dem  en  he  look  at  Miss 
Lou  ez  a  cat  do  at  cream." 

"  Hi !  dat  so  ?  No  won'er  he  want  ter  git  ahaid  ob  de 
parson  en  dat  weddin'  business." 

"  Oh,  yo'  orful  growed  up  en  ain'  fin'  dat  out  ?  " 

"  I  'spicioned  it.  Well,  de  ting  fer  you'n  me  is  ter  he'p 
'im." 

"  La,  now,"  replied  Zany,  proposing  to  give  a  broad  hint 
at  the  same  time,  "  I  ain'  gwine  ter  he'p  no  man  in  sech 
doin's.     De  cream  neber  goes  ter  de  cat." 

"  Yere,  tek  de  plate,  Zany,  wid  my  tanks,"  said  Chunk, 
rising.  "  Sech  cream  ez  you  gits  orful  sour  ef  de  cat  doan 
fin'  it  sud'n.  I'se  took  my  'zert  now,"  and  he  caught  her 
up  again  and  kissed  her  on  the  way  back  to  the  veranda. 

This  time  his  performances  were  seen  by  Aun'  Suke,  who 
stood  in  the  kitchen  door.  She  snatched  up  a  pail  of  water, 
exclaiming,  "  I  cool  you  uns  off,  I  sut'ny  will.     Sech  goin's 


112  "MISS  LOU." 

on  !  "  But  they  were  too  quick  for  her.  Zany  pretended  to 
be  as  irate  as  she  was  secretly  pleased,  while  Chunk  caused 
the  old  woman  to  boil  over  with  rage  by  declaring,  "  Aun' 
Suke,  I  sen'  a  soger  yere  ter  hab  you  'rested  for  'zorderly 
conduct." 

"Ef  you  eber  comes  ter  dis  kitchen  agin  I'se  emty  de 
pot  ob  bilin'  water  on  you,"  cried  Aun'  Suke,  retreating  to 
her  domain. 

"  Ef  you  does,  you  get  yosef  ober  haid  en  years  in  hot 
water,"  Chunk  answered  with  exasperating  sangfroid.  "  You 
niggahs  gwine  ter  fin'  out  who's  who  on  dis  plantashun  'fo'  yo' 
nex'  birthday." 

Zany's  only  response  was  a  grimace,  and  he  next  carried 
his  exaggerated  sense  of  importance  to  his  granny's  cabin. 
He  had  seen  Aun'  Jinkey  and  spoken  a  few  reassuring  words 
as  he  passed  with  Scoville's  attacking  force.  Since  that  time 
she  had  done  a  power  of  "projeckin' "  over  her  corncob  pipe, 
but  events  were  now  hurrying  towards  conclusions  beyond 
her  ken.  It  has  already  been  observed  that  Aun'  Jinkey 
was  a  neutral  power.  As  yet,  the  weight  of  her  decision 
had  been  cast  neither  for|he  North  nor  the  South,  while  the 
question  of  freedom  remained  to  be  smoked  over  indefinitely. 
There  was  no  indecision  in  her  mind,  however,  in  regard  to 
her  young  mistress,  and  greater  even  than  her  fears  when  she 
heard  the  sounds  of  conflict  was  her  solicitude  over  the  pos- 
sibility of  a  forced  marriage.  Since  she  was  under  the  im- 
pression that  her  cabin  migfet  soon  become  again  the  refuge 
of  one  or  the  other  of  the  contending  powers,  possibly  of 
Miss  Lou  herself,  she  left  the  door  ajar  and  was  on  the  alert. 

"Hi  dar  !  granny,"  cried  Chunk,  the  first  to  appear,  "dat's 
right.  Now  you  kin  smoke  in  peace,  fer  you  own  yosef. 
Nobody  come  bossin'  you  yere  any  mo'." 

"  Doan  you  git  so  bumptious  all  ter  oncet,"  said  Aun'  Jinkey. 
"  Does  you  'spect  de  hull  top's  gwine  ter  be  tu'ned  right  ober 


A    THREAT.  113 

down'erds  in  erday?  But  dar  !  you  am'  no  'sper'ence.  Yo' 
stomack  emty  en  yo'  haul  light.  Draw  up  now  en  tell  me 
dc  news.  Tell  me  sud'n  'bout  Miss  Lou.  Did  dey  git  her 
mar'd?" 

"Yah  !  yah  !  Marse  Scoville's  so'd.ud  cut  de  knot  ef  dey 
had." 

"  Dat's  des  ez  much  ez  you  knows.  All  de  so'ds  eber 
flash  kyant  cut  dat  ar  knot  'less  dey  kill  Marse  Whately." 

"  Dat  'min's  me  ob  someting  ter'ble  quar.  Marse  Scoville 
had  he  so'd  pintin'  right  agin  Mad  Whately's  neck  en  yit  he 
ain'  jab  'im.  Dat  same  Mad  Whately  gwine  ter  mek  a 
heap  ob  trouble  fer  he  got  clean  off." 

"  Marse  Scoville  know  dat  ef  he  kill  a  man  right  straight 
wid  he  own  han'  he  spook  come  and  mek  a  heap  mo' 
trouble." 

"  Hi !  didn't  tink  o'  dat." 

"  Bettah  tink  right  smart,  Chunk.  You'se  gittin'  top- 
heaby  ef  you  is  sho't.     Now  tell  me  all  'bout  de  mar'age." 

"  Dey  ain'  no  mar'age.  Zany  tole  me  how  Miss  Lou  say 
she  ain'  neber  'sent,  en  den  'fo'  dey  could  say  dere  lingo  ober 
.her  en  mar'y  her  des  ez  dey  would  a  bale  ob  cotton,  up 
rides  Marse  Scoville  en  put  his  so'd  troo  ebry  ting.  He  tells 
us  we  all  free  en  " — 

"  En  eat  yo'  supper.  I  ain'  done  projeckin'  'bout  dis 
freedom  business.  How  we  uns  gwine  ter  be  free  'less  Marse 
Scoville  stay  yere  en  kep  us  free  ?  " 

"  Zany  guv  me  my  supper  en  "  — 

"  Dar  now,  I  ain'  no  mo'  'count.  Zany  gobble  you  aready. 
I  des  stick  ter  my  chimbly  corner." 

"  Howdy,  Aunt  Jinkey,"  cried  Scoville,  coming  in  briskly. 
"  Well,  you  see  I'm  back  again  as  I  promised." 

"You  welcome,  a  hun'erd  times  welcome,  kaze  you  kep 
my  young  missis  fum  bein'  mar'ed  right  slap  'gin  her  own 
feelin's  ter  her  cousin." 


114  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Pshaw  !  Aunt  Jinkey.  No  one  can  marry  a  girl  against 
her  will  in  this  country." 

"  Dat  des  de  question  Miss  Lou  en  me  projeckin'  'bout  dis 
berry  mawnin'.  She  gyardeens  went  straight  along  ez  ef  dey 
had  de  po'r,  dey  sut'ny  did.  Dat's  w'at  so  upset  Miss  Lou 
en  me.  De  po'r  ob  gyardeens  is  sump'n  I  kyant  smoke  out 
straight,  en  I  des  lak  ter  know  how  much  dey  kin  do.  Ole 
mars'r  al'ays  manage  her  prop'ty  en  we  wuz  frustrated  w'en 
we  see  'im  en  Mad  Whately  en  he  moder  en  ole  miss  en  all 
gittin'  ready  fer  de  weddin'  des  ez  ef  hit  was  comin'  like 
sun-up  sho." 

"  It  was  a  shame,"  cried  Scoville  angrily.  "  They  were 
seeking  to  drive  her  into  submission  by  strong,  steady 
pressure,  but  if  she  insisted  on  her  right "  — 

"Dat  des  w'at  she  did,  Marse  Scoville.  She  say  she 
neber  'sent,  neber"  Chunk  interrupted. 

"  Then  the  whole  Southern  Confederacy  could  not  have 
married  her  and  she  ought  to  know  it." 

"  Well,  you  mus'  be  'siderate,  Marse  Scoville.  Miss  Lou 
know  a  heap  'bout  some  tings  en  she  des  a  chile  'bout  oder 
tings.  Ole  mars'r  en  misus  al'ays  try  ter  mek  her  tink  dat 
only  w'at  dey  say  is  right  en  nuthin'  else,  en  dey  al'ays  'low 
ter  her  dat  she  gwine  ter  mar'y  her  cousin  some  day,  en  she 
al'ays  'low  ter  me  she  doan  wanter." 

"  Poor  child  !  she  does  need  a  friend  in  very  truth. 
What  kind  of  a  man  is  this  Mad  Whately  anyway,  that  he 
could  think  of  taking  part  in  such  a  wrong?  " 

"  He  de  same  kin'  ob  man  dat  he  wuz  a  boy,"  Chunk 
answered.  "  Den  he  kick  en  howl  till  he  git  w'at  he 
want.  'Scuse  me,  Marse  Scoville,  but  I  kyant  hep  tinkin' 
you  mek  big  'stake  dat  you  didn't  jab  'im  w'en  you  hab  de 
chance." 

"Chunk,"  was  the  grave  answer,  "if  you  are  going  to 
wait  on  me  you  must  learn  my  ways.     I'd  no  more  kill  a 


i 


A    THREAT.  115 

man  when  it  was  not  essential  than  I  would  kill  you  this 
minute.     Soldiers  are  not  butchers." 

"  Granny  sez  how  you  wuz  feared  on  his  spook  "  — 

"  Bah  !  you  expect  to  be  free,  yet  remain  slaves  to  such 
fears?  My  horse  knows  better.  Come,  Aunt  Jinkey,  I'd 
rather  you  would  give  me  some  supper  than  your  views  on 
spooks." 

"Leftenant,"  said  Perkins,  the  overseer,  from  the  door, 
"  Mr.  Baron  pr'sents  his  compliments  en  gives  you  a  invite 
to  supper." 

Scoville  thought  a  moment,  then  answered,  "  Present 
mine  in  return,  and  say  it  will  give  me  pleasure  to  ac- 
cept." 

"  Bress  de  Lawd  !  you  gwine  ter  de  big  house.  Not  dat 
I  'grudges  cookin'  fer  you  w'eneber  you  come,  but  I  des 
wants  you  ter  took  a  'tunerty  ter  advise  dat  po'  chile  'bout 
she  rights  en  de  mar'age  question." 

After  assuring  himself  that  the  overseer  was  out  of  earshot, 
Scoville  said  almost  sternly,  "  Aunt  Jinkey,  you  and  Chunk 
must  not  say  one  word  of  my  ever  having  been  here  before. 
It  might  make  your  young  mistress  a  great  deal  of  trouble, 
and  I  should  be  sorry  indeed  if  I  ever  caused  her  any 
trouble  whatever."  Then  as  he  made  his  way  to  the  man- 
sion he  smilingly  soliloquized,  "  I  don't  know  of  any  other 
question  concerning  which  I  would  rather  give  her  advice, 
nor  would  it  be  wholly  disinterested,  I  fear,  if  I  had  a 
chance.  At  this  time  to-morrow,"  he  sighingly  concluded, 
"  I  may  be  miles  away  or  dead.  Poor  unsophisticated 
child  !  I  never  was  touched  so  close  before  as  now  by  her 
need  of  a  friend  who  cares  more  for  her  than  his  own 
schemes." 

Chunk  following  at  a  respectful  distance  became  aware 
that  the  overseer  was  glowering  at  him.  "  Bettah  'lebe  yo' 
min',  Marse  Perkins,"  he  remarked  condescendingly. 


Il6  "MISS  LOU." 

"  You  infernal,  horse -stealing  nigger  ! "  was  the  low  re- 
sponse. 

"  Hi !  Marse  Perkins,  you  kin  growl,  but  you  muzzled 
all  de  same." 

"  The  muzzle  may  be  off  before  many  mo'  sunsets,  en 
then  you'll  find  my  teeth  in  your  throat,"  said  the  man  under 
his  breath,  and  his  look  was  so  dark  and  vindictive  that  even 
in  his  elation  Chunk  became  uneasy. 


MISS  LOU  EMANCIPATED.  l\J 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MISS  LOU  EMANCIPATED. 

NATURE  had  endowed  Scoville  with  a  quick,  active 
mind,  and  circumstances  had  developed  its  power 
and  capacity  to  a  degree  scarcely  warranted  by  his  age. 
Orphaned  early  in  life,  compelled  to  hold  his  own  among 
comparative  strangers  since  childhood,  he  had  gained  a 
worldly  wisdom  and  self-reliance  which  he  could  not  have 
acquired  in  a  sheltered  home.  He  had  learned  to  look  at 
facts  and  people  squarely,  to  estimate  values  and  character 
promptly  and  then  to  decide  upon  his  own  action  unhesi- 
tatingly. Although  never  regarded  as  the  model  good  boy 
at  the  boarding-schools  wherein  he  had  spent  most  of  his 
life,  he  had  been  a  general  favorite  with  both  teachers  and 
scholars.  A  certain  frankness  in  mischief  and  buoyancy  of 
spirit  had  carried  him  through  all  difficulties,  while  his  apt 
mind  and  retentive  memory  always  kept  him  near  to  the 
head  of  his  classes.  The  quality  of  alertness  was  one  of 
his  characteristics.  In  schools  and  at  the  university  he 
quickly  mastered  their  small  politics  and  prevailing  tenden- 
cies, and  he  often  amused  his  fellow-pupils  with  free-handed 
yet  fairly  truthful  sketches  of  their  instructors.  As  the 
country  passed  into  deeper  and  stronger  excitement  over 
the  prospect  of  secession  and  its  consequences,  he  was 
among  the  first  to  catch  the  military  spirit  and  to  take  an 
active  part  in  the  formation  of  a  little  company  among  the 
students.     It  was  not  his  disposition  to  be  excited  merely 


Il8  "MISS  LOU." 

because  others  were.  Certain  qualities  of  mind  led  him  to 
look  beneath  the  surface  for  the  causes  of  national  commo- 
tion. He  read  carefully  the  utterances  of  leaders,  North 
and  South,  and  to  some  extent  traced  back  their  views  and 
animating  spirit  to  historical  sources. 

In  the  year  of  '63  he  found  to  his  joy  that  he  had  attained 
such  physical  proportions  as  would  secure  his  acceptance  in 
a  cavalry  regiment  forming  in  his  vicinity.  His  uncle,  who 
was  also  guardian,  for  reasons  already  known,  made  slight 
opposition,  and  he  at  once  donned  the  blue  with  its  buff 
trimmings.  In  camp  and  field  he  quickly  learned  the  rou- 
tine of  duty,  and  then  his  daring,  active  temperament  led 
him  gradually  into  the  scouting  service.  Now,  although  so 
young,  he  was  a  veteran  in  experience,  frank  to  friends,  but 
secretive  and  ready  to  deceive  the  very  elect  among  his 
enemies.  Few  could  take  more  risks  than  he,  yet  he  had 
not  a  particle  of  Mad  Whately's  recklessness.  Courage,  but 
rarely  impulse,  controlled  his  action.  As  we  have  seen,  he 
could  instantly  stay  his  hand  the  second  a  deadly  enemy, 
seeking  his  life  in  personal  encounter,  was  disarmed. 

The  prospect  of  talking  with  such  a  host  as  Mr.  Baron 
pleased  him  immensely.  He  scarcely  knew  to  whom  he 
was  indebted  for  the  courtesy,  but  rightly  surmised  that  it 
was  Mrs.  Whately,  since  she,  with  good  reason,  felt  under 
obligations  to  him.  Even  more  than  an  adventurous  scout- 
ing expedition  he  relished  a  situation  full  of  humor,  and 
such  his  presence  at  Mr.  Baron's  supper-table  promised  to 
be.  He  knew  his  entertainment  would  be  gall  and  worm- 
wood to  the  old  Bourbon  and  his  wife,  and  that  the  courtesy 
had  been  wrung  from  them  by  his  own  forbearance.  It 
might  be  his  only  opportunity  to  see  Miss  Lou  and  suggest 
the  liberty  he  had  brought  to  her  as  well  as  to  the  slaves. 

Mrs.  Whately  met  him  on  the  veranda  and  said  politely, 
"Lieutenant  Scoville,  you  have  proved  yourself  to  be  a 


MISS  LOU  EMANCIPATED.  I 1 9 

generous  and  forbearing  enemy.  If  you  feel  that  you  can 
meet  frank  enemies  who  wish  to  return  courtesy  with  cour- 
tesy, we  shall  be  glad  to  have  you  take  supper  with  us." 

"Yes,"  added  Mr.  Baron,  "  my  sister  has  convinced  me, 
somewhat  against  my  will,  I  must  in  honesty  admit,  that 
such  hospitality  as  we  can  offer  under  the  circumstances  is 
your  due." 

"  I  appreciate  the  circumstances,  Mr.  Baron,"  was  the 
grave  reply,  "  and  honor  the  Southern  trait  which  is  so  strong 
that  even  I  can  receive  the  benefit  of  it.  Your  courtesy, 
madam,  will  put  me  at  ease." 

Miss  Lou,  thinking  it  possible  that  she  might  see  the 
Northern  officer  again,  had  taken  her  own  way  of  convincing 
him  that  he  was  still  within  the  bounds  of  civilization,  for  she 
made  a  toilet  more  careful  than  the  one  with  which  she  had 
deigned  to  grace  the  appointed  day  of  her  wedding.  She 
could  scarcely  believe  her  eyes  when,  entering  the  supper 
room  a  little  late,  she  saw  Scoville  already  seated  at  the 
table.  He  instantly  rose  and  made  her  a  ceremonious  bow, 
thus  again  indicating  that  their  ^kst  relations  should  be 
completely  ignored  in  the  presence  of  others.  She  there- 
fore gravely  returned  his  salutation  and  took  her  place  with- 
out a  word,  but  her  high  color  did  not  suggest  indifference 
to  the  situation.  Mr.  Baron  went  through  the  formal  "grace  " 
as  usual  and  then  said,  "  Ahem  !  you  will  admit,  sir,  that 
it  is  a  little  embarrassing  to  know  just  how  to  entertain  one 
with  whom  we  have  some  slight  difference  of  opinion." 

"  Perhaps  such  embarrassment  will  be  removed  if  we  all 
speak  our  minds  freely,"  replied  Scoville,  pleasantly. 
"  Pardon  the  suggestion,  but  the  occasion  appears  to  me 
favorable  to  a  frank  and  interesting  exchange  of  views.  If 
my  way  of  thinking  were  wholly  in  accord  with  yours  my 
words  could  be  little  better  than  echoes.  I  should  be  glad 
to  feel  that  my  presence  was  no  restraint  whatever." 


120  "MISS  LOU." 

"  I'm  inclined  to  think  you  are  right,  sir,"  added  Mrs. 
Whately.  "  It  would  be  mere  affectation  on  our  part  to 
disguise  our  thoughts  and  feelings.  With  neighbors,  and 
even  with  friends,  we  are  often  compelled  to  do  this,  but  I 
scarcely  see  why  we  should  do  so  with  an  open  enemy." 

"And  such  I  trust  you  will  find  me,  madam,  an  open 
enemy  in  the  better  sense  of  the  adjective.  As  far  as  I  can, 
I  will  answer  questions  if  you  wish  to  ask  any.  I  will  tell 
you  honestly  all  the  harm  I  meditate  and  outline  clearly  the 
extent  of  my  hostility,  if  you  will  do  the  same,"  and  he 
smiled  so  genially  that  she  half  smiled  also  as  she  answered  : 

"  To  hear  you,  sir,  one  would  scarcely  imagine  you  to  be 
an  enemy  at  all.     But  then  we  know  better." 

"Yes,  sir,  pardon  me,  we  do,"  said  Mr.  Baron,  a  little 
stiffly.  "  For  one,  I  would  like  your  honest  statement  of 
just  what  harm  you  and  your  command  meditate.  I  am  one 
who  would  rather  face  and  prepare  for  whatever  I  shall  be 
compelled  to  meet." 

"  I  think,  sir,  you  have  already  met  and  faced  the  direst 
event  of  the  evening  —  my  presence  at  your  hospitable 
board.  Even  this  hardship  is  due  to  your  courtesy,  not  to 
my  compulsion." 

Miss  Lou  bowed  low  over  her  plate  at  this  speech. 

"But  how  about  the  long  hours  of  the  night,  sir?  Have 
you  such  control  over  your  men  "  — 

"  Yes,  sir  !  "  interrupted  Scoville  with  dignity.  "  The  men 
I  have  with  me  are  soldiers,  not  camp-followers.  They 
would  no  more  harm  you  or  any  thing  you  possess,  without 
orders,  than  I  would." 

"Without  orders  —  a  clause  of  large  latitude.  As  far  as 
words  go  you  have  already  robbed  me  of  the  greater  part  of 
my  possessions.  You  have  told  my  slaves  that  they  are 
free." 

"Not  upon  my   own   responsibility,  sir,  although    with 


MISS  LOU  EMANCIPATED.  121 

hearty  good-will.  In  my  humble  station  I  am  far  more 
often  called  upon  to  obey  orders  than  to  give  them.  You 
are  aware  of  President  Lincoln's  proclamation?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  and  of  the  Pope's  bull  against  the  comet." 

Scoville  laughed  so  genially  as  partially  to  disarm  his  re- 
ply of  its  sting.  "  In  this  instance,  sir,  our  armies  are  rather 
gaining  on  the  comet." 

"  But  what  can  you  and  your  armies  hope  to  accomplish  ?" 
Mrs.  Whately  asked.  "  If  you  should  destroy  every  South- 
ern man,  the  women  would  remain  unsubdued." 

"  Now,  madam,  you  have  me  at  disadvantage.  I  do  not 
know  what  we  would  or  could  do  if  confronted  only  by  im- 
placable Southern  women." 

"  Do  not  imagine  that  I  am  jesting.  I  cannot  tell  you 
how  strange  it  seems  that  a  man  of  your  appearance  and 
evident  character  should  be  among  our  cruel  enemies." 

"And  yet,  Mrs.  Whately,  you  cannot  dispute  the  fact. 
Pardon  me  for  saying  it,  but  I  think  that  is  just  where  the 
South  is  in  such  serious  error.  It  shuts  its  eyes  to  so  many 
simple  facts  —  a  course  which  experience  proves  is  never 
wise.  I  may  da^are,  and  even  believe,  that  there  is  no  solid 
wall  before  me,  yet  if  I  go  headlong  against  it,  I  am  bruised 
all  the  same.  Positive  beliefs  do  not  create  truths.  I  fancy 
that  a  few  hours  since  you  were  absolutely  sure  that  this 
courtesy  of  which  I  am  the  grateful  recipient  could  not  be, 
yet  you  were  mistaken." 

"  Has  not  the  sad  experience  of  many  others  inspired  our 
fears?  Neither  has  the  end  come  with  us  yet.  You  said 
that  the  main  Northern  force  would  come  this  way  to- 
morrow. We  do  not  fear  you  and  those  whom  you  control, 
but  how  about  those  who  are  to  come  ?  " 

"  I  can  speak  only  for  the  class  to  which  I  belong  —  the 
genuine  soldiers  who  are  animated  by  as  single  and  unfalter- 
ing a  spirit  as  the  best  in  your  armies.     If  a  Confederate 


122  "M/SS  LOU." 

column  were  going  through  the  North  you  could  not  answer 
for  the  conduct  of  every  lawless,  depraved  man  in  such  a 
force.  Still,  I  admit  with  you  that  war  is  essentially  cruel, 
and  that  the  aim  ever  must  be  to  inflict  as  much  injury  as 
possible  on  one's  adversaries." 

"  But  how  can  you  take  part  in  such  a  war?  "  Mrs.  Whately 
asked.     "  All  we  asked  was  to  be  let  alone." 

"  Yes,  sir,"  added  Mr.  Baron,  "  how  can  you  justify  these 
ruthless  invasions,  this  breaking  up  of  our  domestic  institu- 
tions, this  despoiling  of  our  property  and  rights  by  force?" 
and  there  was  a  tremor  of  suppressed  excitement  in  his 
voice. 

Scoville  glanced  at  Miss  Lou  to  see  how  far  she  sympa- 
thized with  her  kindred.  He  observed  that  her  face  was 
somewhat  stern  in  its  expression,  yet  full  of  intelligent  inter- 
est. It  was  not  the  index  of  mere  prejudice  and  hate. 
"  Yes,"  he  thought,  "  she  is  capable  of  giving  me  a  fair  hear- 
ing ;  the  others  are  not.  Mr.  Baron,"  he  said,  "  your  views 
are  natural,  perhaps,  if  not  just.  I  know  it  is  asking  much 
of  human  nature  when  you  are  suffering  and  must  suffer  so 
much,  to  form  what  will  become  the  histoasal  judgment  on 
the  questions  at  issue.  The  law  under  which  the  North  is 
fighting  is  the  supreme  one  —  that  of  self-preservation.  Even 
if  we  had  let  you  alone  —  permitted  you  to  separate  and  be- 
come independent  without  a  blow,  war  would  have  come 
soon.  You  would  not  and  could  not  have  let  us  alone. 
Consider  but  one  point :  your  slaves  would  merely  have  to 
pass  the  long  boundary  line  stretching  nearly  across  the  con- 
tinent, in  order  to  be  on  free  soil.  You  could  compel  their 
return  only  by  conquering  and  almost  annihilating  the  North. 
You  will  say  that  we  should  think  as  you  do  on  the  subject, 
and  I  must  answer  that  it  is  every  man  and  woman's  right  to 
think  according  to  individual  conscience,  according  to  the 
light  within.     Deny  this  right,  and  you  put  no  bounds  to 


MISS  LOU  EMANCIPATED.  1 23 

human  slavery.  Pardon  me,  but  looking  in  your  eyes  and 
those  of  these  ladies,  I  can  see  that  I  should  become  a  slave 
instantly  if  you  had  your  way.  Unconsciously  and  inevitably 
you  would  make  me  one,  for  it  is  your  strongest  impulse  to 
make  me  agree  with  you,  to  see  things  exactly  as  you  do. 
The  fact  that  you  sincerely  believe  you  are  right  would  make 
no  difference  if  I  just  as  sincerely  believed  you  were  wrong. 
If  I  could  not  think  and  act  for  myself  I  would  be  a  slave. 
You  might  say,  '  We  know  we  are  right,  that  what  we  be- 
lieve has  the  Divine  sanction.'  That  is  what  the  tormentors 
of  the  Inquisition  said  and  believed ;  that  is  what  my  Puri- 
tan and  persecuting  forefathers  said  and  believed ;  what  does 
history  say  now?  The  world  is  growing  wise  enough  to 
understand  that  God  has  no  slaves.  He  endows  men  and 
women  with  a  conscience.  The  supreme  obligation  is  to  be 
true  to  this.  When  any  one  who  has  passed  the  bounds  of 
childhood  says  to  us,  '  I  don't  think  this  is  right,'  we  take  an 
awful  responsibility,  we  probably  are  guilty  of  usurpation,  if 
we  substitute  our  will  for  his.  In  our  sincerity  we  may  argue, 
reason  and  entreat,  but  in  the  presence  of  another's  con- 
science unconvinced  and  utterly  opposed  to  us,  where  is 
human  slavery  to  end  if  one  man,  or  a  vast  number  of  men, 
have  the  power  to  say,  '  You  shall '  ?  " 

Scoville  had  kept  his  eyes  fixed  on  Mr.  Baron,  and  saw 
that  he  was  almost  writhing  under  the  expression  of  views 
so  repugnant  to  him  —  views  which  proved  his  whole  scheme 
of  life  and  action  to  be  wrong.  Now  the  young  man  turned 
his  glance  suddenly  on  Miss  Lou,  and  in  her  high  color, 
parted  lips  and  kindled  eyes,  saw  abundant  proof  that  she, 
as  he  had  wished,  was  taking  to  herself  the  deep  personal 
application  of  his  words.  Her  guardians  and  Mrs.  Whately 
observed  this  truth  also,  and  now  bitterly  regretted  that  they 
had  invited  the  Union  officer.  It  seemed  to  them  a  sort  of 
malign  fate  that  he  had  been  led,  unconsciously  as  they 


124  "MISS  LOU." 

supposed,  to  pronounce  in  the  presence  of  the  girl  such 
vigorous  condemnation  of  their  action.  Had  they  not  that 
very  day  sought  to  over-ride  the  will,  the  conscience,  the 
whole  shrinking,  protesting  womanhood  of  the  one  who  had 
listened  so  eagerly  as  the  wrong  meditated  against  her  was 
explained  ?  Scoville  had  not  left  them  even  the  excuse  that 
they  believed  they  were  right,  having  shown  the  girl  that  so 
many  who  believed  this  were  wrong.  Miss  Lou's  expression 
made  at  least  one  thing  clear  —  she  was  emancipated  and 
had  taken  her  destiny  into  her  own  hands. 

Mrs.  Whately  felt  that  she  must  turn  the  tables  at  once, 
and  so  remarked,  "  It  seems  to  me  that  the  whole  force  of 
your  argument  tells  against  the  North.  You  are  bent  upon 
conquering  the  South  and  making  it  think  as  you  do." 

"  Oh,  no.  Here  the  law  of  self-preservation  comes  in. 
If  the  South  can  secede,  so  can  the  East  and  the  West. 
New  York  City  can  secede  Irom  the  State.  We  should  have 
no  country.  There  could  be  no  national  life.  Would  Eng- 
land accept  the  doctrine  of  secession,  and  permit  any  part 
of  her  dominions  to  set  up  for  themselves  when  they  chose  ? 
I  know  you  are  about  to  say  that  is  just  what  our  fathers 
did.  Yes,  but  old  mother  England  did  not  say,  '  Go,  my 
children,  God  bless  you ! '  Nor  would  she  say  it  now  to 
any  other  region  over  which  floats  her  flag.  Of  course,  if 
you  whip  us,  we  shall  have  to  submit,  just  as  England  did. 
What  government  has  helplessly  sucked  its  thumbs  when 
certain  portions  of  the  territory  over  which  it  had  jurisdic- 
tion defied  its  power?  We  are  called  Goths  and  Vandals, 
but  that  is  absurd.  We  are  not  seeking  to  conquer  the 
South  in  any  such  old-world  ways.  We  are  fighting  that 
the  old  flag  may  be  as  supreme  here  as  in  New  England. 
The  moment  this  is  true  you  will  be  as  free  as  are  the 
people  of  New  England.  The  same  constitution  and  laws 
will  govern  all." 


MISS  LOU  EMANCIPATED.  1 25 

"And  can  you  imagine  for  a  moment,  sir,"  cried  Mr. 
Baron,  "  that  we  will  submit  to  a  government  that  would  be 
acceptable  to  New  England?" 

"  Yes,  sir ;  and  years  hence,  when  the  South  has  become 
as  loyal  as  New  England  is  now,  if  that  abode  of  the 
Yankees  should  seek  independence  of  the  rest  of  the  coun- 
try she  would  be  brought  back  under  the  flag.  I  would  fight 
New  England  as  readily  as  I  do  the  South,  if  she  sought  to 
break  up  the  Union.  I  would  fight  her  if  every  man,  woman 
and  child  within  her  borders  believed  themselves  right." 

Now  he  saw  Miss  Lou  looking  perplexed.  Her  quick 
mind  detected  the  spirit  of  coercion,  of  substituting  wills, 
against  which  he  had  been  inveighing  and  from  which  she 
had  suffered.  Mrs.  Whately  was  quick  to  see  the  apparent 
weakness  in  his  argument,  for  she  said,  "  Consistency  is  a 
jewel  which  I  suppose  is  little  cared  for  by  those  so  ready  to 
appeal  to  force.  With  one  breath  you  say  we  must  not 
coerce  the  wills  of  others,  and  now  you  say  you  would,  even 
though  you  did  violence  to  universal  and  sacred  beliefs." 

"  I  say  only  that  the  nation  must  do  this  as  must  the  indi- 
vidual. Some  one  might  say  to  me,  '  I  honestly  think  I 
should  take  off  your  right  arm.'  I  would  not  permit  it  if 
I  could  help  it.  No  more  can  a  nation  submit  passively  to 
dismemberment.  The  South  did  not  expect  that  this  nation 
would  do  so.  It  promptly  prepared  for  war.  If  the  North 
had  said,  'We  can  do  nothing,  there's  a  blank,  write  out 
youf  terms  and  we'll  sign,'  we  would  have  been  more 
thoroughly  despised  than  we  were,  if  that  were  possible. 
There  are  two  kinds  of  coercion,  ^or  instance,  I  do  not 
say  to  you,  Mrs.  Whately,  representing  the  South,  that  you 
must  think  and  feel  as  I  do  and  take  just  such  steps  as  I 
dictate ;  but  that  there  are  things  which  you  must  refrain 
from  doing,  because  in  their  performance,  no  matter  how 
sincere  you  were,  you  would  inflict  great  and  far-reaching 


126  "MISS  LOU." 

wrong  on  others.  There  could  be  no  government  without  re- 
striction. We  would  soon  have  anarchy  if  any  part  of  a  nation 
should  and  could  withdraw  when  it  chose  and  how  it  pleased." 

"  Your  doctrine,  sir,  would  banish  freedom  from  the  world. 
All  peoples  would  have  to  submit  to  the  central  tyranny 
called  government,  even  though  such  government  had  be- 
come hateful." 

"This  doctrine,  which  all  governments  act  upon,"  replied 
Scoville  pleasantly,  "has  not  banished  freedom  from  the 
world.  In  this  country,  where  every  man  has  a  voice,  the 
government  will  be  just  about  as  good  as  the  majority  deter- 
mine it  shall  be." 

"  Well,  sir,  to  sum  up  the  whole  matter,"  said  Mr.  Baron 
coldly,  "  two  things  are  clear :  First,  the  South  is  determined 
to  be  free ;  second,  if  we  fail  we  can  be  held  only  under  the 
heel  of  your  Northern  majority  as  Poland  is  trodden  upon." 

Scoville  saw  that  the  discussion  had  gone  far  enough  for 
his  purposes,  and  he  said  with  a  good-natured  laugh,  "  I'm 
neither  a  prophet  nor  his  son,  but  I  think  it  is  a  very  hope- 
ful sign  that  we  could  have  this  frank  interchange  of  views 
and  belief.  I  see  how  perfectly  sincere  you  are,  and  if  I 
had  been  brought  up  here  no  doubt  I  should  think  and  act 
as  you  do.  As  it  is,  I  am  only  a  very  humble  representative 
of  the  Government  which  is  trying  to  preserve  its  own  exist- 
ence —  a  Government  which  the  South  helped  to  form  as 
truly  as  the  North.  If  I  should  come  directly  to  your  side, 
contrary  to  belief  and  conscience,  you  would  be  the  first  to 
despise  me.  I  suppose  we  will  all  agree  that  we  should 
obey  the  supreme  dictates  of  conscience?" 

"  No,  sir,"  burst  out  Mr.  Baron,  "  I  cannot  agree  to  any 
thing  of  the  kind.  There  are  multitudes  who  must  be 
guided  and  controlled  by  those  who  are  wiser,  older  and 
more  experienced.  Why,  sir,  you  would  have  the  very 
nursery  children  in  flat  rebellion." 


AI/SS  LOU  EMANCIPATED.  1 27 

"  Indeed,  Mr.  Baron,  I  have  not  said  one  word  against 
the  authority  of  parents  and  guardians." 

"  Ah  !  I  am  glad  you  draw  the  line  somewhere.  Half 
the  misery  in  the  world  results  from  young  people's  thinking 
themselves  wiser  than  their  natural  advisers.  If  they  can 
merely  say  their  consciences  are  against  what  their  elders 
know  is  right  and  best,  we  have  anarchy  in  the  fountain- 
head  of  society  —  the  family,"  and  he  glared  for  a  moment 
at  his  niece. 

"  What  you  say  seems  very  true,  Mr.  Baron.  I  should  be 
glad  to  know  where  you  draw  the  line  ?  Independent  action 
must  begin  at  some  period." 

While  Mr.  Baron  hesitated  over  this  rather  embarrassing 
question  Miss  Lou  startled  all  her  kindred  by  saying,  "  I 
did  not  intend  to  take  any  part  in  this  conversation,  but  a 
glance  from  my  uncle  makes  his  last  remark  personal  to  me. 
I  am  at  least  old  enough  to  ask  one  or  two  questions.  Do 
you  think  it  right,  Lieutenant  Scoville,  that  a  woman  should 
never  have  any  independent  life  of  her  own?" 

"  Why,  Miss  Baron,  what  a  question  !  Within  the  re- 
ceived limits  of  good  taste  a  woman  has  as  much  right  to 
independent  action  as  a  man." 

"Well,  then,  how  can  she  ever  have  any  independence 
if  she  is  treated  as  a  child  up  to  one  day  of  her  life,  and 
the  next  day  is  expected  to  promise  she  will  obey  a  man  as 
long  as  he  lives?" 

The  angry  spots  in  Mrs.  Baron's  cheeks  had  been  burning 
deeper  and  deeper,  and  now  she  spoke  promptly  and  freez- 
ing])', "  Mr.  Scoville,  I  absolve  you  from  answering  one  who 
is  proving  herself  to  be  neither  a  child  nor  a  refined  woman. 
I  did  not  expect  this  additional  humiliation.  If  it  had  not 
occurred  I  would  have  taken  no  part  in  the  conversation. 
Mr.  Baron,  I  think  we  have  granted  even  more  than  the 
most  quixotic  idea  of  courtesy  could  demand." 


128  "MISS  LOU." 

"'Granted?  demand?'  surely  there  is  some  mistake, 
madam,"  said  Scoville  with  dignity,  as  he  rose  instantly 
from  the  table.  "I  have  asked  nothing  whatever  except 
that  you  should  dismiss  your  fears  as  far  as  I  and  my  men 
are  concerned." 

Mrs.  Whately  was  provoked  equally  at  herself  and  all  the 
others.  She  now  deeply  regretted  that  she  had  not  left 
the  Union  officer  to  obtain  his  supper  where  and  how  he 
could,  but  felt  that  she  must  smooth  matters  over  as  far  as 
possible.  "Lieutenant  Scoville,"  she  said  hurriedly,  "you 
must  make  allowances  for  people  in  the  deepest  stress  of 
trouble.  We  did  intend  all  the  courtesy  which  our  first 
remarks  defined.  Of  course  you  cannot  know  our  circum- 
stances, and  when  words  are  spoken  which  cut  to  the  quick 
it  is  hard  to  give  no  sign.  Perhaps  our  hearts  are  too  sore 
and  our  differences  too  radical "  —  and  she  hesitated. 

"  I  understand  you,  madam,"  said  Scoville,  bowing.  "  I 
can  only  repeat  my  assurances  of  your  safety  and  express 
my  regret "  — 

"  Oh,  shame  ! "  cried  Miss  Lou,  whose  anger  and  indigna- 
tion now  passed  all  bounds.  "  We  are  not  in  the  deepest 
stress  of  trouble,  and  you,  Mrs.  Whately,  are  the  last  one  to 
say  it.  I  saw  this  gentleman's  sabre  poised  at  your  son's 
throat  long  enough  to  have  killed  him  twice  over,  and  he 
did  not  do  it,  even  in  the  excitement  of  defending  his  own 
life.  After  Mrs.  Baron's  words  he  again  assures  us  of  safety. 
What  did  you  all  predict  would  happen  immediately  when 
Northern  soldiers  came  ?  Whether  I  am  refined  or  not,  I 
am  at  least  grateful.  Lieutenant,  please  come  with  me. 
I  will  try  to  prove  that  I  appreciate  your  courtesy  and  for- 
bearance," and  she  led  the  way  from  the  room. 

He  bowed  ceremoniously  to  Mr.  Baron  and  the  ladies, 
then  followed  the  girl,  leaving  them  almost  paralyzed  by 
their  conflicting  emotions. 


A   SMILE   ON   WAR'S  GRIM  FACE.  1 29 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

A   SMILE   ON   WAR'S   GRIM   FACE. 

MISS  LOU  led  the  way  to  the  broad,  moonlit  piazza. 
As  Scoville  followed,  he  saw  that  the  girl  was  trem- 
bling violently,  and  he  was  thus  able  to  grasp  in  some  degree 
the  courage  she  was  manifesting  in  her  first  half-desperate 
essays  towards  freedom.  "  Poor  child  !  "  he  thought,  "  her 
fright  is  surpassed  only  by  her  determination.  How  easily 
they  could  manage  her  by  a  little  tact  and  kindness  !  " 

She  pointed  to  a  chair  near  the  hall  door  and  faltered, 
"  Lieutenant  Scoville,  I  scarcely  know  whether  I  am  doing 
right  in  seeing  you  here  alone.  I  know  little  of  the  usages 
of  society.     I  do  not  wish  to  appear  to  you  unrefined." 

"  Miss  Baron,"  he  replied  kindly,  "  I  do  not  know  why 
you  have  not  the  same  right  which  other  young  ladies  enjoy, 
of  entertaining  a  gentleman  at  your  home." 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  glad  that  you  are  not  angry." 

"  I  was  never  more  lamb-like  in  my  disposition  than  at 
this  moment.  Moreover,  I  wish  to  thank  you  as  a  brave 
girl  and  a  genuine  lady." 

She  was  almost  panting  in  her  strong  excitement  and 
embarrassment.  "  Please  remember,"  she  said,  "  that  I  do 
not  wish  to  do  or  say  any  thing  unbecoming,  but  I  know  so 
little  and  have  been  so  tried  "  — 

"  Miss  Baron,"  and  he  spoke  low  for  fear  he  would  be 
overheard,  "  I  already  know  something  of  what  you  have 
passed  through  and  of  your  brave  assertion  of  a  sacred  right. 


I30  "MISS  LOU." 

Continue  that  assertion  and  no  one  can  force  you  into 
marriage.  I  have  ridden  nearly  twenty-four  hours  to  be 
here  in  time  and  to  make  some  return  for  your  great  kind- 
ness, but  you  were  so  brave  that  you  scarcely  needed  help." 

"  Oh  !  I  did  need  it.  I  was  so  frightened  and  so  des- 
perate that  I  was  almost  ready  to  faint.  My  cousin  is  one 
who  will  have  his  own  way.  He  has  never  been  denied  a 
thing  in  his  life.  I  should  have  been  taken  away  at  least 
and  then  —  oh,  I  just  felt  as  if  on  the  edge  of  a  precipice. 
It  seems  dreadful  that  I  should  be  speaking  so  of  my  kin- 
dred to  a  stranger  and  enemy  "  — 

"  Enemy  !  Far  from  it.  A  friend.  Have  you  not  pro- 
tected my  life  and  liberty?  Miss  Baron,  I  give  you  my 
sacred  word,  I  swear  to  you  by  my  mother's  memory  to  be 
as  loyal  to  you  as  if  you  were  my  own  sister.  Young  as  I 
am,  perhaps  I  can  advise  you  and  help  you,  for  it  is  indeed 
clear  that  you  need  a  friend." 

"  I  cannot  tell  you  what  relief  your  words  bring,  for, 
inexperienced  as  I  am,  something  assures  me  that  I  can 
trust  you." 

"  Indeed  you  can.  I  should  spoil  my  own  life  more  truly 
than  yours  if  I  were  not  true  to  my  oath.  Please  remember 
this  and  have  confidence.  That  is  what  you  need  most  — 
confidence.  Believe  in  yourself  as  well  as  in  me.  Have 
you  not  been  brave  and  true  to  yourself  in  the  most  painful 
of  ordeals  ?  Try  to  keep  your  self-control  and  you  will  make 
no  serious  mistakes,  and  never  so  misjudge  me  as  to  imagine 
I  shall  not  recognize  your  good  intentions." 

"  Ah  ! "  she  sighed,  with  a  rush  of  tears,  "  that's  the 
trouble.     I'm  so  hasty ;  I  lose  my  temper." 

He  smiled  very  genially  as  he  said,  "  If  you  were  as 
amiable  as  some  girls  you  would  have  been  married  before 
this.  Don't  you  see  in  what  good  stead  your  high  spirit  has 
stood  you  ?     I  do  not  censure  righteous  anger  when  you  are 


A   SMILE   OW  WAR'S  GRIM  FACE.  131 

wronged.  You  are  one  who  could  not  help  such  anger, 
and,  if  controlled,  it  will  only  help  you.  All  I  ask  is  that 
you  so  control  it  as  to  take  no  false  steps  and  keep  well 
within  your  certain  rights.  You  are  in  a  peculiarly  painful 
position.  Your  kindred  truly  mean  well  by  you  —  see  how 
fair  I  am  —  but  if  they  could  carry  out  their  intentions  and 
marry  you  to  that  spoiled  boy,  you  would  be  one  of  the 
most  unhappy  of  women.  If  he  is  capable  of  trying  to  force 
you  to  marry  him  he  would  always  be  imperious  and  un- 
reasonable. You  would  be  a  hard  one  to  manage,  Miss 
Baron,  by  the  words,  You  must,  and  You  shall ;  but  I  think 
Please,  would  go  a  good  way  if  your  reason  and  conscience 
were  satisfied." 

"  Indeed,  sir,  you  are  right.  If  I  loved  my  cousin  I  would 
marry  him  even  though  he  were  so  badly  wounded  as  to  be 
helpless  all  his  life.  But  my  whole  soul  protests  against  the 
thought  of  marriage  to  any  one.  Why,  sir,  you  can't  know 
how  like  a  child  I've  always  been  treated.  I  feel  that  I 
have  a  right  to  remain  as  I  am,  to  see  more  of  the  world, 
to  know  more  and  enjoy  more  of  life.  I  can  scarcely  re- 
member when  I  was  truly  happy,  so  strictly  have  I  been 
brought  up.  You  would  not  believe  it,  but  poor  old  Aun' 
Jinkey,  my  mammy,  is  almost  the  only  one  who  has  not 
always  tried  to  make  me  do  something  whether  I  wished  to 
or  not.  My  aunt,  Mrs.  Whately,  has  meant  to  be  kind,  but 
even  in  my  childish  squabbles  with  my  cousin,  and  in  his 
exactions,  she  always  took  his  part.  I  just  want  to  be  free 
—  that's  all." 

"  Well,  Miss  Baron,  you  are  free  now,  and  if  you  will 
simply  assert  your  rights  with  quiet  dignity  you  can  remain 
free.  Your  kindred  are  mistaken  in  their  attitude  towards 
you,  and  you  can  make  them  see  this  in  time.  They  are 
well-bred  people  and  are  not  capable  of  using  force  or 
violence.    They  did,  I  suppose,  believe  terrible  things  of 


132  "MISS  LOU." 

me  and  those  I  represent,  and  their  action,  perhaps,  has 
been  due  partially  to  panic.  That  crisis  is  past ;  you  have 
only  to  trust  your  own  best  instincts  in  order  to  meet  future 
emergencies.  Whatever  comes,  remember  that  your  Northern 
friend  said  he  had  confidence  that  you  would  do  what  is 
brave  and  right.  Perhaps  we  shall  never  meet  again,  for 
we  are  in  the  midst  of  a  fierce,  active  campaign.  There  is 
much  advice  I  would  like  to  give  you,  but  we  shall  not  be 
left  alone  long,  and  the  best  thing  now,  after  this  long,  hard 
day,  is  for  you  to  get  your  mind  quiet  and  hopeful.  How 
quiet  and  peaceful  every  thing  is  !  not  a  harsh  sound  to  be 
heard." 

"  Yes,  and  think  what  they  tried  to  make  me  believe  ! 
They  all  should  be  treating  you  with  kindness  instead  of"  — 
but  here  she  was  interrupted  by  the  appearance  of  Mrs. 
Whately. 

In  order  to  understand  that  lady's  action  and  that  of  her 
relatives,  we  must  go  back  to  the  moment  when  Miss  Lou 
and  Scoville  left  the  supper  room.  Mrs.  Whately  was  the 
first  to  recover  her  self-possession  and  some  true  apprecia- 
tion of  their  situation.  Mr.  Baron  in  his  rage  would  have 
gone  out  and  broken  up  the  conference  on  the  piazza,  but 
his  sister  said  almost  sternly,  "  Sit  down." 

"  Well,"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Baron,  bitterly,  "  I  hope  you  are 
both  satisfied  now  with  the  results  of  courtesy  to  Yankees. 
I  knew  I  was  right  in  believing  that  we  could  have  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  them.  I  think  it  is  monstrous  that 
Louise  is  alone  with  one  on  the  piazza,  and  her  uncle 
should  interfere  at  once." 

"  Brother,"  said  Mrs.  Whately,  "  you  can  see  our  niece 
through  the  window  from  where  you  sit.  She  is  talking 
quietly  with  the  officer." 

"Yes,  and  what  may  he  not  say  to  her?  Already  her 
contumacious  rebellion  passes  all  bounds.    She  has  heard 


A   SMILE   OJV   WAR'S   GRIM  FACE.  1 33 

too  much  incendiary  talk  from  him  already,"  and  he  again 
rose  to  end  the  interview. 

"  Hector  Baron,"  said  his  sister  solemnly,  "  you  must 
listen  to  me  first,  before  you  take  any  further  steps.  We 
will  say  nothing  more  about  the  past.  It's  gone  and  can't 
be  helped.  Now,  with  all  the  influence  I  have  over  you,  I 
urge  you  and  your  wife  to  remain  here  until  you  are  calm  — 
till  you  have  had  a  chance  to  think.  Is  this  a  time  for  head- 
long anger  ?  Was  there  ever  a  period  in  your  life  when  you 
should  so  carefully  consider  the  consequences  of  your  action  ? 
Please  tell  me  how  you  and  sister  are  going  to  make  Louise 
do  and  think  exactly  what  you  wish.  This  is  no  time  for 
blinking  the  truth  that  you  have  alienated  her.  You  could 
easily  now  drive  her  to  do  something  rash  and  terrible.  I 
understand  her  better  every  moment  and  feel  that  we  have 
taken  the  wrong  course.  She  would  have  gone  away  with 
Madison  as  his  cousin,  and  wifehood  would  have  come  nat- 
urally later.  We  have  been  too  hasty,  too  arbitrary.  You 
both  must  recognize  the  truth  that  you  cannot  treat  her  as 
a  child  any  longer  or  you  will  lose  her  altogether,  for  in  this 
matter  of  marriage  she  has  been  made  to  know  that  she  is 
not  a  child.  She  can  be  led  into  it  now,  but  not  forced  into 
it.  Her  course  is  open  now,  but  if  you  continue  arbitrary 
her  action  may  become  clandestine  and  even  reckless. 
Then  in  regard  to  this  Yankee  officer.  Alas  !  what  he  says 
is  too  true.  In  our  strong  feeling  we  shut  our  eyes  to  facts. 
Are  we  not  in  his  power?  He  has  spared  my  son's  life  and 
your  property  and  home,  and  yet  he  has  been  virtually 
ordered  out  of  the  house.  There  is  truth  in  what  Louise 
said.  We  are  not  in  the  deepest  stress  of  trouble  —  infinitely 
removed  from  the  trouble  we  might  be  in." 

"  He  has  not  spared  my  property,"  growled  Mr.  Baron, 
"  he  has  told  all  my  people  they  are  free.  Where  does  that 
leave  me?" 


134  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Now,  brother,  your  very  words  prove  how  essential  it  is 
that  you  regain  your  self-control  and  reason.  Is  this  young 
officer  going  through  the  country  on  his  own  responsibility  ? 
He  only  echoes  the  proclamation  of  Abe  Lincoln,  whom  he 
is  bound  to  obey.  Since  we  entered  on  the  discussion  of 
our  differences  could  we  expect  him  to  do  otherwise  than 
present  his  side  as  strongly  as  he  could  ?  Now  if  you  and 
sister  can  shake  all  this  off  by  one  mighty  effort  of  your  wills, 
do  so ;  but  if  we  do  not  wish  to  Invite  every  evil  we  predicted, 
do  let  us  be  calm  and  rational.  For  one,  I  feel  Louise's 
reproof  keenly,  and  it  will  not  do  to  outrage  her  sense  of 
justice  any  longer.  This  officer  has  proved  that  we  were 
wrong  in  our  predictions  before  he  came.  If  now  we  con- 
tinue to  treat  him  as  outside  the  pale  of  courtesy,  we  lose 
her  sympathy  utterly  and  do  our  utmost  to  provoke  him  and 
his  men.  Merciful  heaven  !  if  my  son  were  a  bleeding 
corpse  or  dying  in  agony,  what  would  the  world  be  to  me  ? 
I  shall  apologize  to  him  and  treat  him  with  politeness  as 
long  as  I  am  under  his  protection." 

"  I  shall  have  nothing  to  do  with  him,"  said  Mrs.  Baron, 
pressing  her  thin  lips  together. 

"  Well,  well,"  ejaculated  Mr.  Baron,  "  I  suppose  I  shall 
have  to  become  meeker  than  Moses,  and  kiss  every  rod 
that  smites  me  for  fear  of  getting  a  harsher  blow." 

Mrs.  Whately  felt  that  it  was  useless  to  say  any  thing 
more,  and  as  we  have  seen,  joined  her  niece. 

"  Lieutenant,"  she  said,  "  we  owe  you  an  apology,  and  I 
freely  and  frankly  offer  it.  I  fear  you  think  we  are  making 
sorry  return  for  your  kindness." 

"  Mrs.  Whately,  I  appreciate  your  good  intentions,  and  I 
can  make  allowance  for  the  feelings  of  my  host  and  hostess. 
The  fine  courtesy  of  Miss  Baron  would  disarm  hostility  itself, 
but  I  assure  you  that  there  is  no  personal  hostility  on  my 
part  to  any  of  you." 


A   SMILE   ON   WAR'S  GRIM  FACE.  1 35 

"  Well,  sir,  I  must  say  that  I  regard  it  as  a  very  kind 
ordering  of  Providence  that  we  have  fallen  into  such  hands 
as  yours." 

"  I  certainly  am  in  no  mood  to  complain,"  he  replied, 
laughing.  "  Perhaps  experience  has  taught  us  that  we  had 
better  ignore  our  differences.  I  was  just  remarking  to  Miss 
Baron  on  the  beauty  and  peacefulness  of  the  night.  Will 
you  not  join  us?  We  can  imagine  a  flag  of  truce  flying, 
under  which  we  can  be  just  as  good  friends  as  we  please." 

"  Thank  you.  I  will  join  you  with  pleasure,"  and  she  sat 
down  near  her  niece.  "  Well,"  she  added,  "  this  is  a  scene 
to  be  remembered." 

Miss  Lou  looked  at  Scoville  gratefully,  for  his  words  and 
manner  had  all  tended  to  reassure  her.  In  her  revolt,  he 
showed  no  disposition  to  encourage  recklessness  on  her 
part.  As  her  mind  grew  calmer  she  saw  more  clearly  the 
course  he  had  tried  to  define  —  that  of  blended  firmness 
and  courtesy  to  her  relatives.  She  was  so  unsophisticated 
and  had  been  so  confused  and  agitated,  that  she  scarcely 
knew  where  to  draw  the  line  between  simple,  right  action 
and  indiscretion.  Conscious  of  her  inexperience,  inclined 
to  be  both  timid  and  reckless  in  her  ignorance  and  trouble, 
she  began  even  now  to  cling,  metaphorically,  to  his  strong, 
sustaining  hand.  His  very  presence  produced  a  sense  of 
restfirlness  and  safety,  and  when  he  began  to  call  attention 
to  the  scenes  and  sounds  about  them  she  was  sufficiently 
quiet  to  be  appreciative. 

Dew  sparkled  in  the  grass  of  the  lawn  on  which  the 
shadows  of  trees  and  shrubbery  fell  motionless.  The  air 
was  balmy  and  sweet  with  the  fragrance  of  spring  flowers. 
The  mocking-birds  were  in  full  ecstatic  song,  their  notes 
scaling  down  from  bursts  of  melody  to  the  drollery  of  all 
kinds  of  imitation.  The  wounded  men  on  the  far  end  of 
the  piazza  were   either   sleeping  or  talking  in  low  tones, 


I36  "M/SS  LOU." 

proving  that  there  was  no  extremity  of  suffering.  Off  to  the 
left,  between  them  and  the  negro  quarters,  were  two  or  three 
fires,  around  which  the  Union  soldiers  were  reclining,  some 
already  asleep  after  the  fatigues  of  the  day,  others  playing 
cards  or  spinning  yarns,  while  one,  musically  inclined,  was 
evoking  from  a  flute  an  air  plaintive  and  sweet  in  the  dis- 
tance. Farther  away  under  the  trees,  shadows  in  shadow, 
the  horses  were  dimly  seen  eating  their  provender.  The 
Confederate  prisoners,  smoking  about  a  fire,  appeared  to  be 
taking  the  "horrors  of  captivity  "  very  quietly  and  comfort- 
ably. At  the  quarters  they  heard  the  sound  of  negro-sing- 
ing, half  barbaric  in  its  wildness. 

"  It  is  hard  to  realize  that  this  scene  means  war,"  remarked 
Miss  Lou,  after  they  had  gazed  and  listened  a  few  moments 
in  silence. 

"  Yet  it  does,"  said  Scoville  quietly.  "  Look  down  the 
avenue.  Do  you  not  see  the  glint  of  the  moonbeams  on  a 
carbine  ?  All  around  us  are  men  mounted  and  armed.  If  a 
shot  were  fired,  we  should  all  be  ready  for  battle  in  three  min- 
utes. Those  prisoners  will  be  guarded  with  sleepless  vigilance 
till  I  deliver  them  up.  There  is  a  sentinel  at  the  back  of  the 
house,  three  guarding  the  out-buildings,  and  so  it  will  be  till 
I  am  relieved  and  another  takes  command." 

"Who  will  he  be?"  she  asked  apprehensively. 

"  I  do  not  know." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  you  could  guard  us  till  these  troubles  are 
over." 

"  I  can  honestly  echo  that  wish,"  added  Mrs.  Whately. 

"  Thank  you.  It  would  be  pleasanter  duty  than  usually 
falls  to  the  lot  of  a  soldier.  Yet  in  these  times  I  scarcely 
know  what  my  duty  may  be  from  hour  to  hour." 

"  You  told  us  that  we  need  not  fear  anything  to-night," 
began  Mrs.  Whately. 

"  Not  unless  I  am  attacked,  I  said.     I  am  aware  that  at 


A   SMILE   ON   WAR'S   GRIM  FACE.  1 37 

this  moment  your  son  is  seeking  a  force  to  do  this.  I  do  not 
think  that  he  will  be  able  to  find  any,  however,  before  morn- 
ing. In  any  event  you  could  have  nothing  to  fear  from  us, 
except  as  your  dreams  were  disturbed  by  a  battle." 

"  Oh,  I  wish  I  were  a  soldier ! "  exclaimed  the  girl. 
"  This  whole  scene  seems  as  if  taken  right  out  of  a  story." 

"You  are  looking  at  this  moment  on  the  bright  side  of  our 
life.  At  any  rate,  I'm  glad  you're  not  a  soldier.  If  you  were, 
my  duty  might  be  made  more  difficult.  It  has  other  and  very 
different  sides.  By  the  way,  I  would  like  to  watch  those 
negroes  a  little  while,  and  listen  to  them.  Their  perform- 
ances always  interest  me  deeply.  Will  not  you  ladies  go  with 
me?    Soon  I  must  get  some  rest  while  I  can." 

Miss  Lou  looked  at  her  aunt,  who  hesitated  a  moment, 
then  said,  "  I  am  very  tired,  Lieutenant.  I  will  trust  you  as 
a  chivalrous  enemy  to  take  my  niece,  and  I  will  sit  here  until 
you  return." 

"  I  deeply  appreciate  your  kindness,  madam." 

Miss  Lou  went  with  him  gladly  and  found  herself  at  the 
close  of  the  long,  miserable  day  becoming  positively  happy. 
When  out  of  hearing  she  said,  "  Aunt's  permission  almost 
took  away  my  breath.  Yet  it  seems  to  me  just  the  way 
a  girl  ought  to  be  treated.  Oh,  how  perfectly  delicious  is  a 
little  bit  of  freedom  !  How  perfectly  grand  to  have  some- 
thing going  on  that  does  not  mean  no  end  of  trouble  to 
one's  self ! " 

Scoville  laughed  lightly  as  he  replied,  "  I  now  wish  you 
were  a  soldier  and  an  officer  in  my  regiment.  You  and  I 
would  make  good  comrades." 

"  You  forget,  sir,"  she  answered  in  like  vein,  "  that  I  am 
a  bloodthirsty  little  rebel." 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  remember  that  yours  was  the  kind, 
pitying  face  which  made  me  half  fancy  I  was  in  heaven  when 
recovering  from  my  swoon." 


138  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Chunk  and  Aun'  Jinkey  brought  you  back  to  earth  right 
sudden,  didn't  they ?  "  and  her  laugh  rang  out  merrily. 

"  Sister,"  cried  Mr.  Baron,  running  out  on  the  veranda, 
"what  on  earth — I  thought  I  heard  Louise  laugh  way  off 
towards  the  quarters." 

"  You  did." 

"  What !  has  she  broken  all  bounds,  defied  all  authority, 
and  gone  utterly  wild  in  her  rebellion?" 

Mrs.  Whately  made  a  gesture  of  half  irritable  protest. 
Meantime,  Mrs.  Baron,  hearing  her  husband's  voice,  came 
out  and  exclaimed,  "  Is  that  Louise  and  the  Yankee  yonder 
going  off  alone  ?  " 

"  They  are  not  '  going  off.'  You  and  brother  may  join 
them  if  you  wish.  They  simply  intend  to  watch  the  people 
at  the  quarters  a  little  while,  and  I  will  wait  here  for  them." 

"  Sarah  Whately  !  "  gasped  Mrs.  Baron,  "  can  you  mean  to 
say  that  you  have  permitted  our  ward  to  do  such  an  indeli- 
cate thing?  She  has  never  been  permitted  to  go  out  alone 
in  the  evening  with  any  young  man,  and  the  idea  that  she 
should  begin  with  a  Yankee/  " 

"  She  is  not  alone.  She  is  always  within  call  and  most  of 
the  time  in  sight.  I  will  make  one  more  effort  to  bring  you 
both  to  reason,"  added  Mrs.  Whately,  warmly,  "and  then, 
if  we  continue  to  differ  so  radically,  I  will  return  home  in 
the  morning,  after  giving  Louise  to  understand  that  she  can 
always  find  a  refuge  with  me  if  it  is  necessary.  Can  you 
think  I  would  let  the  girl  whom  my  son  hopes  to  marry  do 
an  indelicate  thing?  Pardon  me,  but  I  think  I  am  compe- 
tent to  judge  in  such  matters.  I  will  be  answerable  for  her 
conduct  and  that  of  Lieutenant  Scoville  also,  for  he  is  a 
gentleman  if  he  is  our  enemy.  I  tell  you  again  that  your 
course  towards  Louise  will  drive  her  to  open,  reckless  defi- 
ance. It  is  a  critical  time  with  her.  She  is  my  niece  as 
well  as  your  ward,  and  it  is  the  dearest  wish  of  myself  and 


A   SMILE   ON   WAR'S  GRIM  FACE.  1 39 

son  that  she  should  be  bound  to  us  by  the  closest  ties.  I 
will  not  have  her  future  and  all  our  hopes  endangered  by 
a  petty,  useless  tyranny.  If  you  will  treat  her  like  a  young 
lady  of  eighteen  I  believe  she  will  act  like  one." 

Mrs.  Baron  was  speechless  in  her  anger,  but  her  husband 
began,  "  Oh,  well,  if  he  were  a  Southern  officer  "  — 

Then  the  blood  of  her  race  became  too  hot  for  Mrs. 
Whately's  control,  and  she  sprung  up,  saying,  "  Well,  then, 
go  and  tell  him  to  his  face  that  he's  a  vile  Yankee,  a  Goth 
and  Vandal,  a  ruthless  invader,  unworthy  of  a  moment's 
trust,  and  incapable  of  behaving  like  a  gentleman  !  Take 
no  further  protection  at  his  hands.  How  can  you  be  so 
blind  as  not  to  see  I  am  doing  the  best  thing  possible  to 
retain  Louise  within  our  control  and  lead  her  to  fulfil  our 
hopes  ?  I  ask  you  again,  how  are  you  going  to  make  Louise 
do  what  you  wish?  You  cannot  be  arbitrary  with  even  one 
of  your  own  slaves  any  longer." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Baron,  "  I  wash  my  hands  of  it  all,"  and 
she  retired  to  her  room.  Mr.  Baron  sat  down  in  a  chair  and 
groaned  aloud.  It  was  desperately  hard  for  him  to  accept 
the  strange  truth  that  he  could  not  order  every  one  on  the 
place,  his  niece  included,  to  do  just  what  pleased  him. 
Never  had  an  autocratic  potentate  been  more  completely 
nonplussed ;  but  his  sister's  words,  combined  with  events, 
brought  him  face  to  face  with  his  impotence  so  inexorably 
that  for  a  time  he  had  nothing  to  say. 


140  "MISS  LOU." 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

THE   JOY  OF    FREEDOM. 

IN  an  open  space  near  the  quarters  the  negroes  had  kindled 
a  fire,  although  the  night  was  mild.  These  children  of 
the  sun  love  warmth  and  all  that  is  cheerful  and  bright,  their 
emotions  appearing  to  kindle  more  readily  with  the  leaping 
flames.  When  Miss  Lou  and  Scoville  approached,  the  wor- 
shippers were  just  concluding  the  hymn  heard  on  the  piazza. 
From  the  humble  cabins  stools,  benches,  rickety  chairs,  and 
nondescript  seats  made  from  barrels,  had  been  brought  and 
placed  in  a  circle  close  about  the  fire.  These  were  occupied 
by  the  elderly  and  infirm.  Uncle  Lusthah,  whose  name  had 
been  evolved  from  Methuselah,  was  the  evident  leader  of 
the  meeting,  and  Miss  Lou  whispered  to  her  attendant, 
"  He's  the  recognized  preacher  among  them,  and  I  believe  he 
tries  to  live  up  to  his  ideas  of  right." 

"  Then  I'll  listen  to  him  very  respectfully,"  said  Scoville. 

Their  advent  created  quite  a  commotion,  and  not  a  few 
were  inclined  to  pay  court  to.  the  "Linkum  ossifer."  All 
who  had  seats  rose  to  offer  them,  but  Scoville  smiled,  shook 
his  head  and  waved  them  back.  Uncle  Lusthah  immedi- 
ately regained  attention  by  shouting,  "  Look  at  me  :  "  then, 
"  Now  look  up.  Who  we  uns  befo'  ?  De  King.  De  gret 
Jehovah.  Bow  yo'  haids  humble ;  drap  yo'  eyes.  Tek  off 
de  shoon  fum  yo'  feet  lak  Moses  w'en  he  gwine  neah  de 
bunin'  bush.  Young  mars'r  en  young  mistis  standin'  dar 
'spectful.     Dey  knows  dat  ef  de  gret  Linkum  yere  hissef, 


THE  JOY  OF  FREEDOM.  141 

Linkum's  Lawd  en  Mars'r  yere  befo'  'im.  Let  us  all  gib  our 
'tention  ter  'Im  who's  brung  'liverance  ter  Isrel  at  las'.  We 
gwine  troo  de  Red  Sea  ob  wah  now  en  des  whar  de  promis' 
Ian'  is  we  got  ter  fin'  out,  but  we  hab  tu'ned  our  backs  on  ole 
Egypt  en  we  ain'  gwine  back  no  mo'.  Brudren  en  sistas, 
you'se  yeard  a  Gospil,  a  good  news,  dis  eb'nin'  sho.  You'se 
yeard  you  free,  bress  de  Lawd  !  I'se  been  waitin'  fer  dis 
news  mo'  yeahs  den  I  kin  reckermember,  but  dey's  come 
'fo'  my  ole  haid's  under  de  sod.  Hit's  all  right  dat  we 
is  glad  en  sing  aloud  for  joy,  but  we  orter  rejice  wid  trem'lin'. 
De  'sponsibil'ties  ob  freedom  is  des  tremenjus.  Wat  you 
gwine  ter  do  wid  freedom?  Does  you  tink  you  kin  git 
lazy  en  thievin'  en  drunken?  Is  dere  any  sech  foolishness 
yere  ?  Will  eny  man  or  ooman  call  deysefs  free  w'en  dey's 
slabes  ter  some  mean,  nasty  vice?  Sech  folks  al'ays  be 
slabes,  en  dey  orter  be  slabes  ter  a  man  wid  a  big  whip.  See 
how  de  young  mars'r  'haves  dat  brung  de  news  ob  freedom. 
He  know  he  juty  en  he  does  hit  brave.  He  mek  de  w'ite 
sogers  he  'mands  des  toe  de  mark.  We  got  ter  toe  a 
long,  w'ite  mark.  We  ain'  free  ter  do  foolishness  no  mo'  dan 
he  en  he  men  is.  De  gret  Linkum  got  he  eye  on  you ;  de 
Cap'n  ob  our  salvation  got  He  eye  on  you.  Now  I  des  gib 
you  some  'structions,"  and  happy  it  would  have  been  for 
the  freedmen  —  for  their  masters  and  deliverers  also,  it  may 
be  added  —  if  all  had  followed  Uncle  Lusthah's  "  'struc- 
tions." 

When  through  with  his  exhortation  the  old  preacher  knelt 
down  on  the  box  which  served  as  his  pulpit  and  offered  a 
fervent  petition.  From  the  loud  "  amens  "  and  "  'lujahs  "  he 
evidently  voiced  the  honest  feeling  of  the  hour  in  his  dusky 
audience.  Scoville  was  visibly  affected  at  the  reference  to 
him.  "May  de  deah  Lawd  bress  de  young  Linkum  ossifer," 
rose  Uncle  Lusthah's  tones,  loud,  yet  with  melodious  power 
and  pathos,  for  he  was  gifted  with  a  voice  of  unusual  compass, 


142  "MISS  LOU.  " 

developed  by  his  calling.  "  He  des  took  he  life  in  he  hand 
en  come  down  in  de  Ian'  ob  de  shadder,  de  gret,  dark  shadder 
dat's  been  restin'  on  de  hearts  ob  de  slabes.  We  had  no 
fader,  no  muder,  no  wife,  no  chile.  Dey  didn't  'long  to  we 
fer  dey  cud  be  sole  right  out'n  our  arms  en  we  see  dem 
no  mo'.  De  gret  shadder  ob  slav'y  swallow  dem  up. 
Young  mars'r  face  de  bullit,  face  de  so'ed,  face  de  curse  ter 
say  we  free.  May  de  Lawd  be  he  shieF  en  buckler,  compass 
'im  roun'  wid  angel  wings,  stop  de  han'  riz  ter  strike,  tu'n 
away  de  bullit  aim  at  he  heart.  May  de  Lawd  brung  'im 
gray  hars  at  las  lak  mine,  so  he  see,  en  his  chil'n  see,  en  our 
chil'n  see  de  'liverance  he  hep  wrought  out. 

"  En  dar's  young  mistis.  She  hab  a  heart  ter  feel  fer  de 
po'  slabe.  She  al'ays  look  kin'  at  us,  en  she  stood  'tween 
us  en  woun's  en  death ;  w'en  all  was  agin  us  en  she  in 
de  watehs  ob  triberlation  hersef,  she  say  'fo'  dem  all,  *  No 
harm  come  ter  us.'  She  put  her  lil  w'ite  arm  roun'  her  ole 
mammy."  ("  Dat  she  did,"  cried  Aun'  Jinkey,  who  was 
swaying  back  and  forth  where  the  fire  lit  up  her  wrinkled 
visage,  "  en  de  gret  red  welt  on  her  shol'er  now.")  "  She 
took  de  blow,"  continued  Uncle  Lusthah,  amidst  groans  and 
loud  lamentations,  "en  de  Lawd,  wid  whose  stripes  we 
healed,  will  bress  her  en  hab  aready  bressed  her  en  brung 
her  'liverance  'long  o'  us.  May  He  keep  her  eyes  fum 
teahs,  en  er  heart  fum  de  breakin'  trouble ;  may  He  shine 
on  a  path  dat  lead  ter  all  de  bes'  tings  in  dis  yere  wort'  en 
den  ter  de  sweet  home  ob  heb'n  ! " 

When  the  voice  of  Uncle  Lusthah  ceased  Scoville  heard  a 
low  sob  from  Miss  Lou  at  his  side  and  he  was  conscious  that 
tears  stood  in  his  own  eyes.  His  heart  went  out  in  strong 
homage  to  the  young  girl  to  whom  such  tribute  had  been 
paid  and  her  heart  thrilled  at  the  moment  as  she  distin- 
guished his  deep  "amen"  in  the  strong,  general  indorse- 
ment ol  the  petition  in  hei  behalf. 


THE  JOY  OF  FREEDOM.  I43 

Then  rose  a  hymn  which  gathered  such  volume  and 
power  that  it  came  back  in  echoes  from  distant  groves. 

"  Hark,  hark,  I  year  a  soon'.     Hit  come  fum  far  away; 
Wake,  wake,  en  year  de  soun'  dat  come  fum  far  away. 
De  night  am  dark,  de  night  been  long,  but  dar  de  mawnin'  gray; 
En  wid  de  light  is  comin'  sweet  a  soun'  fum  far  away. 

"  Look  how  de  light  am  shinin'  now  across  de  gret  Red  Sea. 
On  Egypt  sho'  we  stay  no  mo'  in  slabing  misery. 
Ole  Pharaoh  year  de  voice  ob  God,  '  Des  set  my  people  free ; ' 
En  now  we  march  wid  song  en  shout,  right  troo  the  gret  Red  Sea." 

Every  line  ended  with  the  rising  inflection  of  more  than 
a  hundred  voices,  followed  by  a  pause  in  which  the  echoes 
repeated  clearly  the  final  sound.  The  effect  was  weird, 
strange  in  the  last  degree,  and,  weary  as  he  was,  Scoville 
felt  all  his  nerves  tingling. 

The  meeting  now  broke  up,  to  be  followed  by  dancing 
and  singing  among  the  younger  negroes.  Uncle  Lusthah, 
Aun'  Jinkey,  and  many  others  crowded  around  Scoville  and 
"  the  young  mistis  "  to  pay  their  respects.  Chunk  and  Zany, 
standing  near,  graciously  accepted  the  honors  showered  upon 
them.  The  officer  speedily  gave  Miss  Lou  his  arm  and  led 
her  away.  When  so  distant  as  to  be  unobserved,  he  said  in 
strong  emphasis,  "  Miss  Baron,  I  take  off  my  hat  to  you. 
Not  to  a  princess  would  I  pay  such  homage  as  to  the  woman 
who  could  wake  the  feeling  with  which  these  poor  people 
regard  you." 

She  blushed  with  the  deepest  pleasure  of  her  life,  for  she 
had  been  repressed  and  reprimanded  so  long  that  words  of 
encouragement  and  praise  were  very  sweet.  But  she  only 
said  with  a  laugh,  "  Oh,  come ;  don't  turn  my  poor  bewil- 
dered head  any  more  to-night.  I'm  desperately  anxious  to 
have  unele  and  aunt  think  I'm  a  very  mature  young  woman, 


144  "MISS  LOU." 

but  I  know  better  and  so  do  you.  Why,  even  Uncle 
Lusthah  made  me  cry  like  a  child." 

"  Well,  his  words  about  you  brought  tears  to  my  eyes,  and 
so  there's  a  pair  of  us." 

"  Oh  !  "  she  cried  delightedly,  giving  his  arm  a  slight  press- 
ure, "  I  didn't  know  that  you'd  own  up  to  that.  When  I  saw 
them  I  felt  like  laughing  and  crying  at  the  same  moment. 
And  so  I  do  now  —  it's  so  delicious  to  be  free  and  happy  — 
to  feel  that  some  one  is  honestly  pleased  with  you." 

He  looked  upon  her  upturned  face,  still  dewy  from  emotion, 
and  wondered  if  the  moon  that  night  shone  on  a  fairer  object 
the  world  around.  It  was  indeed  the  face  of  a  glad,  happy 
child  no  longer  depressed  by  woes  a  few  hours  old,  nor  fear- 
ful of  what  the  next  hour  might  bring.  Her  look  into  his 
eyes  was  also  that  of  a  child,  full  of  unbounded  trust,  now 
that  her  full  confidence  was  won.  "  You  do  indeed  seem 
like  a  lovely  child,  Miss  Baron,  and  old  Uncle  Lusthah  told 
the  whole  truth  about  you.  Those  simple  folk  are  like  chil- 
dren themselves  and  find  people  out  by  intuition.  If  you 
were  not  good-hearted  they  would  know  it.  Well,  I'm  glad 
I'm  not  old  myself." 

"But  you're  going  to  be  old  —  awful  old,"  she  replied, 
full  of  rippling  laughter.  "  Oh,  wasn't  I  glad  to  hear  Uncle 
Lusthah  pray  over  you  !  for  if  there  is  a  God  who  takes  any 
care  of  people,  you  will  live  to  be  as  gray  as  he  is." 

"If  there  is  a  God?" 

"Oh,  I'm  a  little  heathen.  I  couldn't  stand  uncle  or 
aunt's  God  at  all  or  believe  in  Him.  They  made  me 
feel  that  He  existed  just  to  approve  of  their  words  and 
ways,  and  to  help  them  keep  me  miserable.  When  I  hear 
Uncle  Lusthah  he  stirs  me  all  up  just  as  he  did  to-night ; 
but  then  I've  always  been  taught  that  he's  too  ignorant  — 
well,  I  don't  know.  Uncle  and  aunt  made  an  awful  blunder," 
and  here  she  began  to  laugh  again.     "  There  is  quite  a  large 


THE  JOY  OF  FREEDOM.  1 45 

library  at  the  house,  at  least  I  suppose  it's  large,  and  I  read 
and  read  till  I  was  on  the  point  of  rebellion,  before  you  and 
Cousin  Mad  came.  Books  make  some  things  clear  and 
others  so-o  puzzling.  I  like  to  hear  you  talk,  for  you  seem 
so  decided  and  you  know  so  much  more  than  I  do.  Cousin 
Mad  never  read  much.  It  was  always  horse,  and  dog,  and 
gun  with  him.  How  I'm  running  on  and  how  far  I  am  from 
your  question  !  But  it  is  such  a  new  thing  to  have  a  listener 
who  cares  and  understands.  Aun'  Jinkey  cares,  poor  soul ! 
but  she  can  understand  so  little.  Lieutenant,  I  can  answer 
your  implied  question  in  only  one  way  ;  I  wish  to  know  what 
is  true.  Do  you  believe  there's  a  God  who  cares  for  us  as 
Uncle  Lusthah  says?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  you  do ;  and  simply  saying  so  will  have 
more  weight  than  all  arguments." 

"  Please  remember,  Miss  Baron,  I  haven't  said  that  I  lived 
up  to  my  faith.  It's  hard  to  do  this,  I  suppose,  in  the  army. 
Still  I've  no  right  to  any  excuses,  much  less  to  the  unmanly 
one  that  it's  hard.  What  if  it  is  ?  That's  a  pretty  excuse  for 
a  soldier.  Well,  no  matter  about  me,  except  that  I  wish 
you  to  know  that  with  all  my  mind  and  heart  I  believe  that 
there  is  a  good  God  taking  care  of  a  good  girl  like  you.  Par- 
don me  if  I  ask  another  question  quite  foreign.  How  could 
your  cousin  wish  to  marry  you  if  you  do  not  love  him?" 

He  wondered  as  he  saw  the  child-like  look  pass  from  her 
face  and  her  brow  darken  into  a  frown.  "  I  scarcely  know 
how  to  answer  you,"  she  said,  "and  I  only  understand 
vaguely  myself.  I  understand  better,  though,  since  I've 
known  you.  When  you  were  hiding  in  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin 
you  looked  good-will  at  me.  1  saw  that  you  were  not  think- 
ing of  yourself,  but  of  me,  and  that  you  wished  me  well. 
I  feel  that  Cousin  Mad  is  always  thinking  of  himself,  that 
his  professed  love  of  me  is  a  sort  of  self-love.     He  gives  me 


I46  "MISS  LOU.,} 

the  feeling  that  he  wants  me  for  his  own  sake,  not  for  my 
sake  at  all.  I  don't  believe  he'd  love  me  a  minute  after  he 
got  tired  of  me.  I'd  be  just  like  the  toys  he  used  to  cry 
for,  then  break  up.     I  won't  marry  such  a  man,  never" 

"  You  had  better  not.  Hush  1  We  are  approaching  a 
man  yonder  who  appears  anxious  to  hear  what  is  none 
of  his  business." 

They  had  been  strolling  slowly  back,  often  pausing  in  the 
deep  mutual  interest  of  their  conversation.  Miss  Lou  now 
detected  Perkins  standing  in  the  shadow  of  his  dwelling, 
between  the  mansion  and  the  quarters. 

"That's  the  overseer,"  she  said,  in  a  low  voice.  "How 
quick  your  eyes  are  !  " 

"  They  must  be  in  my  duty."  Then  he  directed  their 
steps  so  as  to  pass  near  the  man.  When  opposite,  he 
turned  his  eyes  suddenly  upon  Perkins'  face,  and  detected 
such  a  scowl  of  hostility  and  hate  that  his  hand  dropped 
instinctively  on  the  butt  of  his  revolver.  "Well,  sir,"  he 
said,  sternly,  "you  have  shown  your  disposition." 

"  You  didn't  'spect  ter  find  a  friend,  I  reck'n,"  was  the 
surly  yet  confused  reply. 

"  Very  well,  I  know  how  to  treat  such  bitter  enemies  as 
you  have  shown  yourself  to  be.  Officer  of  the  guard  !  "  A 
trooper  ran  forward  from  the  camp-fire  and  saluted.  "  Put 
this  man  with  the  other  prisoners,  and  see  that  he  has  no 
communication  with  any  one." 

As  Perkins  was  marched  off  they  heard  him  mutter  a 
curse.  "  Pardon  me,  Miss  Baron,"  Scoville  resumed.  "The 
lives  of  my  men  are  in  my  care,  and  that  fellow  would  mur- 
der us  all  if  he  had  a  chance.  I  don't  know  that  he  could 
do  any  harm,  but  it  would  only  be  from  lack  of  opportunity. 
I  never  take  risks  that  I  can  help." 

"  Having  seen  his  expression  I  can't  blame  you,"  was 
her  reply. 


THE  JOY  OF  FREEDOM.  1 47 

A  new  train  of  thought  was  awakened  in  Scoville.  He 
paused  a  moment  and  looked  at  her  earnestly. 

"  Why  do  you  look  at  me  so  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Miss  Baron,  pardon  me,  but  I  do  wish  I  were  going  to 
be  here  longer,  or  rather,  I  wish  the  war  was  over.  I  fear 
there  are  deep  perplexities,  and  perhaps  dangers,  before 
you.  My  little  force  is  in  the  van  of  a  raiding  column  which 
will  pass  rapidly  through  the  country.  It  will  be  here  to- 
morrow morning,  but  gone  before  night,  in  all  probability. 
The  war  will  be  over  soon,  I  trust,  but  so  much  may  happen 
before  it  is.  You  inspire  in  me  such  deep  solicitude.  I  had 
to  tell  those  poor  negroes  that  they  were  free.  So  they 
would  be  if  within  our  lines.  But  when  we  are  gone  that 
overseer  may  be  brutal,  and  the  slaves  may  come  again  to 
you  for  protection.  That  cousin  of  yours  may  also  come 
again  —  oh,  it  puts  me  in  a  sort  of  rage  to  think  of  leaving 
you  so  unfriended.  You  will  have  to  be  a  woman  in  very 
truth,  and  a  brave,  circumspect  one,  too." 

"  You  are  right,  sir,"  she  replied  with  dignity,  "  and  you 
must  also  remember  that  I  will  be  a  Southern  woman.  I  do 
feel  most  friendly  to  you  personally,  but  not  to  your  cause. 
Forgive  me  if  I  have  acted  and  spoken  too  much  like  a  child 
to-night,  and  do  not  misunderstand  me.  Circumstances  have 
brought  us  together  in  a  strange  way,  and  while  I  live  I  shall 
remember  you  with  respect  and  gratitude.  I  can  never  lose 
the  friendly  interest  you  have  inspired,  and  I  can  never  think 
of  the  North  as  I  hear  others  speak  of  it ;  but  I  belong  to 
my  own  people  and  I  should  be  very  unhappy  and  humili- 
ated if  I  felt  that  I  must  continue  to  look  to  an  enemy  of 
my  country  for  protection.  I  cannot  go  over  to  your  side 
any  more  than  you  can  come  over  to  ours." 

He  merely  sighed  in  answer. 

"You  do  not  think  less"  —  and  then  she  paused  in  trou- 
bled silence. 


148  "MASS  LOU." 

"  Louise,"  called  Mrs.  Whately's  voice. 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  girl,  "  we  are  coming." 

"  I  think  you  will  always  try  to  do  what  seems  right  to 
you,  Miss  Baron.  May  God  help  and  guide  you,  for  you 
may  have  trouble  of  which  you  little  dream.  What  you  say 
about  your  side  and  my  side  has  no  place  in  my  thoughts. 
I'll  help  settle  such  questions  with  soldiers.  Neither  do  I 
wish  to  be  officious,  but  there  is  something  in  my  very 
manhood  which  protests  against  a  fair  young  girl  like  you 
being  so  beset  with  troubles." 

"  Forgive  me,"  she  said  earnestly.  "  There  it  is  again. 
You  are  unselfishly  thinking  of  me,  and  that's  so  new. 
There's  no  use  of  disguising  it.  When  you  go  there'll  not 
be  one  left  except  Aun'  Jinkey  and  Uncle  Lusthah  who  will 
truly  wish  what's  best  for  me  without  regard  to  themselves. 
Well,  it  can't  be  helped.  At  least  I  have  had  a  warning 
which  I  won't  forget." 

"  But  Mrs.  Whately  seems  so  kindly  "  — 

"  Hush  !  I  see  uncle  coming.  She  would  sacrifice  herself 
utterly  for  her  son,  and  do  you  think  she  would  spare 
me?" 

Mr.  Baron's  fears  and  honest  sense  of  responsibility  led 
him  at  last  to  seek  his  niece.  In  doing  this  he  saw  Perkins 
under  guard.  Hastening  to  Scoville  he  demanded,  "  What 
does  this  mean?    My  overseer  is  not  a  combatant,  sir." 

"Mr.  Baron,"  replied  the  officer,  "have  you  not  yet 
learned  that  I  am  in  command  on  this  plantation?" 

Poor  Mr.  Baron  lost  his  temper  again  and  exploded  most 
unwisely  in  the  words,  "Well,  sir,  my  niece  is  not  under 
your  command.  You  had  no  right  to  take  her  from  the 
house  without  my  permission.  I  shall  report  you  to  your 
superior  officer  to-morrow." 

"  I  hope  you  will,  sir." 

"I  also  protest  against  the  treatment  of  my  overseer." 


THE  JOY  OF  FREEDOM.  1 49 

"  Very  well,  sir." 

"  You  will  please  release  my  niece's  arm  and  leave  us  to 
ourselves,  as  you  promised." 

"  No,  sir,  I  shall  escort  Miss  Baron  back  to  Mrs.  Whately, 
from  whom  I  obtained  the  honor  of  her  society." 

"  Louise,  I  command  "  —  Mr.  Baron  began,  almost  chok- 
ing with  rage. 

"  No,  uncle,"  replied  the  girl,  "  you  command  me  no 
more.  Request  me  politely,  and  I  will  shake  hands  with 
Lieutenant  Scoville,  thank  him  for  his  courtesy  to  me  and 
to  us  all,  and  then  go  with  you." 

The  old  man  turned  on  his  heel  and  walked  back  to  the 
house  without  a  word. 

"  Bravo  !  "  whispered  Scoville,  but  he  felt  her  hand  trem- 
ble on  his  arm.  "That's  your  true  course,"  he  added.  "  In- 
sist on  the  treatment  due  your  age,  act  like  a  lady,  and  you 
will  be  safe." 

"  Well,"  Mrs.  Whately  tried  to  say  politely,  "  have  not 
you  young  people  taken  an  ell?" 

"  No,  Mrs.  Whately,"  Scoville  replied  gravely.  "  We  have 
not  taken  a  step  out  of  our  way  between  here  and  the  quar- 
ters, although  we  have  lingered  in  conversation.  We  have 
ever  been  in  plain  sight  of  many  of  your  people.  I  put  the 
overseer  under  arrest  because  I  had  absolute  proof  of  his 
malicious  hostility.  I  shall  inflict  no  injury  on  any  one 
who  does  not  threaten  to  be  dangerous  to  my  command, 
my  duty  requiring  that  I  draw  the  line  sharply  there.  Mrs. 
Whately,  I  have  never  met  a  young  lady  who  inspired  in 
me  more  honest  respect.  If  we  have  trespassed  on  your 
patience,  the  blame  is  mine.  Ladies,  I  thank  you  for  your 
courtesy  and  wish  you  good-night,"  and  he  walked  rapidly 
away. 

"  Aunty,"  said  Miss  Lou,  "you  have  begun  to  treat  me  in 
a  way  which  would  inspire  my  love  and  confidence." 


I50  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Well,  my  dear,  I  am  sorely  perplexed  If  we  yield  in 
minor  points,  you  should  in  vital  ones,  and  trust  to  our  riper 
experience  and  knowledge." 

The  distractions  of  the  day  had  practically  robbed  Mr. 
Baron  of  all  self-control,  and  he  now  exclaimed,  "  I  yield 
nothing.  As  your  guardian  I  shall  maintain  my  rights  and 
live  up  to  my  sense  of  responsibility.  If  by  wild,  reckless 
conduct  you  thwart  my  efforts  in  your  behalf,  my  responsi- 
bility ceases.     I  can  then  feel  that  I  have  done  my  best." 

"  And  so,  uncle,  you  would  be  quite  content,  no  matter 
what  became  of  me,"  added  the  girl  bitterly.  "  Well,  then, 
I  tell  you  to  your  face  that  you  cannot  marry  me,  like  a 
slave  girl,  to  whom  you  please.  I'll  die  first.  I  shall  have 
my  girlhood,  and  then,  as  woman,  marry  or  not  marry,  as  I 
choose.  Aunty,  I  appeal  to  you,  as  a  woman  and  a  lady,  to 
stop  this  wretched  folly  if  you  can." 

"  Louise,"  said  her  aunt,  kindly,  "  as  long  as  I  have  a 
home  it  shall  be  a  refuge  to  you.  I  hope  the  morrow  will 
bring  wiser  counsels  and  better  moods  to  us  all." 

The  mansion  soon  became  quiet,  and  all  slept  in  the 
weariness  of  reaction.  No  sound  came  from  the  darkened 
dwelling  except  an  occasional  groan  from  one  of  the  wounded 
men  on  the  piazza.  Scoville,  wrapped  in  a  blanket,  lay  down 
by  the  fire  with  his  men  and  was  asleep  almost  instantly. 
The  still  shadows  on  the  dewy  grass  slowly  turned  towards 
the  east  as  the  moon  sank  low.  To  the  last,  its  beams 
glinted  on  the  weapons  of  vigilant  sentinels  and  videttes, 
and  the  only  warlike  sounds  occurred  at  the  relief  of  guards. 
All  rested  who  could  rest  except  one  —  the  overseer.  Rest- 
less, vindictive,  he  watched  and  listened  till  morning. 


A    WELL-AIMED  SLIPPER.  151 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

A  WELL-AIMED   SLIPPER. 

IT  would  be  hard  to  imagine  a  morning  more  lovely,  a 
more  perfect  type  of  peace  and  good-will,  than  the  one 
which  dawned  over  The  Oaks  plantation  the  following  day. 
With  the  light  came  fragrant  zephyrs  of  delicious  coolness ; 
the  stillness  of  the  night  gave  place  to  a  slight  stir  and  rustle 
of  foliage ;  chanticleers  crowed  lustily,  with  no  forebodings 
of  their  doom ;  the  horses  began  to  whinny  for  their  break- 
fasts, and  the  negroes  to  emerge  from  their  quarters  to  greet 
the  light  of  this  first  fair  day  of  freedom.  Uncle  Lusthah 
declared  "  De  millenyum  yere  sho  !  "  Smoke  rose  from 
Aim'  Jinkey's  chimney,  and  after  the  pone  was  baking  on 
the  hearth  she  came  out  on  the  doorstep  with  her  pipe  to 
do  a  little  "  projeckin'."  Even  she  was  impressed  with  the 
beauty  and  peacefulness  of  the  morning.  "En  ter  tink," 
she  ejaculated,  "  my  honey's  sleepin'  lak  a  lil  chile  'stead 
ob  cryin'  en  wringin'  her  han's  nobody  know  whar  !  Wen 
dey  gits  ter  mar'in'  my  honey  en  she  a  bleatin'  en  a  tremlin' 
like  a  lamb  'long  a  wolf  dat  lickin'  he  chops  ober  her,  den  I 
say  hit's  time  fer  a  smash  up.  Marse  Scoville  look  lak  he 
'tect  her  gin  de  hull  worl'." 

So  thought  Miss  Lou  herself.  In  her  weariness  and  sense 
of  security  she  had  slept  soundly  till  the  light  grew  distinct, 
when  the  birds  wakened  her.  With  consciousness  memory 
quickly  reproduced  what  had  occurred.  She  sprang  to  the 
window  and  peeped  through  the  blinds  in  time  to  see 


152  "MISS  LOU." 

Scoville  rise  from  his  bivouac  and  throw  aside  his  blanket. 
With  a  soldier's  promptness  he  aroused  his  men  and  began 
giving  orders,  the  tenor  of  one  being  that  a  scouting  party 
should  prepare  to  go  out  immediately. 

"  Oh ! "  she  sighed,  "  if  I  had  such  a  brother  what  a 
happy  girl  I  might  be !  I  don't  believe  I'd  ever  care  to 
marry." 

She  was  far  from  being  a  soft-natured,  susceptible  girl, 
and  while  Scoville  kindled  her  imagination  and  had  won  her 
trust,  she  did  not  think  of  him  as  a  lover.  Indeed,  the  very 
word  had  become  hateful  to  her,  associating  it  as  she  did 
with  her  cousin  and  the  idea  of  selfish  appropriation.  More 
strongly  than  any  slave  on  the  plantation,  she  longed  for 
freedom,  and  the  belief  that  the  Union  officer  understood 
her,  respecting  her  rights  and  feelings,  won  him  all  the  favor 
she  was  then  capable  of  bestowing  upon  any  one.  If  he 
had  employed  his  brief  opportunity  in  gallantry  and  love- 
making  she  would  have  been  disgusted.  "  I  never  met  any 
one  like  him,"  she  soliloquized  as  she  hastily  dressed.  "  It's 
so  strange  to  find  one  willing  I  should  be  a  little  bit  happy 
in  my  own  way,  who  is  not '  seeking  my  best  welfare,'  as 
uncle  says.  Welfare,  indeed !  As  if  I  couldn't  see  some 
wish  or  scheme  of  their  own  back  of  all  they  say  or  do  ! 
His  dark  eyes  declare,  'I  wish  you  well  whether  you  are 
useful  to  me  or  not.'  Well,  I  am  glad  I've  known  him, 
whether  I  ever  see  him  again  or  not.  He  has  made  my 
course  much  clearer." 

The  inmates  of  the  mansion  as  well  as  those  without  were 
soon  busy  in  their  preparations  for  a  day  which  all  felt  must 
be  eventful.  That  the  "  millenyum  "  had  not  come  was 
soon  proved  by  the  commencement  of  hostilities  on  the 
part  of  Mrs.  Baron  and  Scoville.  The  latter  was  approach- 
ing the  kitchen  to  interview  Aun'  Suke  when  "ole  miss" 
appeared. 


A    WELL- AIMED  SLIPPER.  1 53 

"  Madam,"  he  said,  lifting  his  hat,  "  will  you  kindly  di- 
rect your  cook  to  prepare  a  breakfast  immediately  for  the 
wounded  ?  It  should  be  light  as  well  as  nutritious,  for  some 
are  feverish." 

She  paid  no  more  attention  to  him  than  if  he  had  not 
spoken,  and  entered  Aun'  Suke's  domain.  There  was  a 
mirthful  flash  in  his  dark  eyes  as  he  followed  her.  When 
she  saw  him  standing  in  the  doorway,  her  cold  stare,  more 
clearly  than  words,  designated  him  "  intruder."  He  steadily 
returned  her  gaze,  and  Aun'  Suke,  who  had  been  shouting 
over  freedom  the  night  before,  now  had  the  temerity  to 
quiver  in  all  her  vast  proportions  with  amusement. 

"  Madam,"  resumed  Scoville,  removing  his  hat,  "  will  you 
give  my  orders,  or  shall  I  ?  " 

"  Your  orders,  sir  !  and  in  my  kitchen  !  " 

"Certainly,  madam,  and  my  orders  in  this  instance  are 
simply  the  dictates  of  humanity." 

"  I  will  see  that  our  men  are  well  cared  for.  I  am  not 
responsible  for  the  others." 

"  But  I  am,  and  all  must  fare  alike.  Cook,  prepare  a 
nice  light  breakfast  for  all  the  wounded  men  before  you  do 
any  thing  else." 

"  Yes,  mars'r,  I  'bey  you,  I  sut'ny  will." 

Scoville  strode  away  to  attend  to  other  duties.  Mrs. 
Baron  glared  after  him  and  then  at  Aun'  Suke,  who  at  once 
began  her  work. 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  you'll  take  no  more  orders 
from  me?  "  the  old  lady  asked,  in  tones  of  suppressed  anger. 

"  Kyant  do  mo'  'n  one  ting  ter  oncet.  Ob  co'se  I  git  yo' 
'oreakfas'  when  I  kin.  Reck'n  dough  we  soon  hab  ter  dis- 
ergree  on  my  wages.     I'se  a  free  ooman." 

"  Oh,  you  are  free  and  I  am  not.  That's  the  new  order 
of  things  your  Yankee  friends  would  bring  about." 

"  La  now,  misus,"  said  matter-of-fact  Aun'  Suke,  again 


154  "MISS  LOU." 

shaking  with  mirth  at  the  idea,  "  you  got  mo'  edication  'n 
me.  Wat  de  use  bein'  blin'  des  on  puppose?  Spose  you 
en  ole  mars'r  tell  me  dat  am'  a  egg  "  (holding  one  up)  : 
"  kyant  I  see  ?  Hit's  broad  sun-up.  Why  not  des  look  at 
tings  ez  dey  iz?  Sabe  a  heap  ob  trouble.  Yere,  you  lil  nig- 
gahs,  hep  right  smart  or  you  neber  get  yo'  breakfas'." 

Mrs.  Baron  went  back  to  the  house  looking  as  if  the  end 
of  the  world  had  come  instead  of  the  millennium. 

In  the  hall  she  met  her  husband  and  Mrs.  Whately,  to 
whom  she  narrated  what  had  occurred.  Mr.  Baron  had 
settled  down  into  a  sort  of  sullen  endurance,  and  made  no 
answer,  but  Mrs.  Whately  began  earnestly  :  "  Our  very  dig- 
nity requires  that  we  have  no  more  collision?  with  a  power 
we  cannot  resist.  Even  you,  sister,  must  now  see  that  you 
gain  nothing  and  change  nothing.  We  can  be  merely  pas- 
sive in  our  hostility.  The  only  course  possible  for  us  is  to 
endure  this  ordeal  patiently  and  then  win  Louise  over  to  our 
wishes." 

Miss  Lou,  who  was  dusting  the  parlor,  stole  to  the  farther 
end  of  the  apartment  and  rattled  some  ornaments  to  warn 
them  of  her  presence.  She  smiled  bitterly  as  she  muttered, 
"  Our  wishes ;  mine  will  never  be  consulted." 

Mrs.  Whately  entered  the  parlor  and  kissed  her  niece 
affectionately.  She  did  not  like  the  girl's  expression  and  the 
difficulty  of  her  task  grew  clearer.  Nevertheless,  her  heart 
was  more  set  on  the  marriage  than  ever  before,  since  her 
motives  had  been  strengthened  by  thought.  That  her  son 
was  bent  upon  it  was  one  of  the  chief  considerations.  "  If  I 
obtain  for  him  this  prize,"  she  had  reasoned,  "  he  must  see 
that  there  is  no  love  like  a  mother's." 

Miss  Lou,  also,  had  been  unconsciously  revealing  her  na- 
ture to  the^sagacious  matron,  who  felt  the  girl,  if  won,  would 
not  become  a  pretty  toy,  soon  wearying  her  son  by  insipidity 
of  character.     "  I  know  better,"  the  lady  thought,  "  than  to 


A    WELL- AIMED  SLIPPER.  155 

agree  with  brother  and  sister  that  Louise  is  merely  wilful  and 
perverse."  Feeling  that  she  was  incapable  of  controlling 
her  son,  she  would  be  glad  to  delegate  this  task  to  the  one 
who  had  the  most  influence  over  him  and  who  best  prom- 
ised to  maintain  it.  She  was  not  so  blind  in  her  indulgence 
as  helpless  in  it  from  long  habit.  She  thought  that  as  a 
wife  the  girl  would  not  only  hold  her  own,  but  also  do  much 
towards  restraining  her  son  in  his  wild  tendencies :  but  she 
gave  no  weight  to  the  consideration  often  in  Miss  Lou's  mind, 
"  I  do  not  see  why  every  thing  and  everybody  should  exist 
for  Cousin  Mad's  benefit." 

Mrs.  Whately  secretly  approved  of  Scoville's  orders  in 
regard  to  the  wounded,  but  did  not  so  express  herself,  re- 
solving not  to  come  into  collision  again  with  her  relatives 
unless  it  was  essential.  She  now  went  out  and  assisted  the 
surgical  trooper  in  dressing  the  men's  injuries.  Miss  Lou 
had  learned  that  breakfast  would  be  delayed,  and  so  decided 
to  satisfy  her  hunger  partially  at  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin.  The 
excitements  of  the  preceding  day  had  robbed  her  of  all 
appetite,  but  now  she  was  ravenous.  Her  estrangement 
from  her  uncle  and  aunt  was  so  great  that  she  avoided  them, 
having  a  good  deal  of  the  child's  feeling,  "  I  won't  speak  till 
they  make  up  first." 

The  old  negress  heard  her  rapid  steps  and  looked  out 
from  her  door.  "  O  mammy,"  cried  the  girl,  "  I'm  that 
hungry  I  could  almost  eat  you,  and  I  don't  know  when  we'll 
have  breakfast." 

"You  des  in  time,  den,  honey.     Come  right  in." 

But  Miss  Lou  paused  at  the  door  in  embarrassment,  for 
Scoville  had  risen  from  the  table  and  was  advancing  to  meet 
her.  "  Good-morning,  Miss  Baron,"  he  said.  "  Aunt  Jinkey 
and  Chunk  have  prepared  me  a  capital  breakfast,  and  I  should 
be  only  too  delighted  to  share  it.  I  must  be  in  the  saddle 
soon  and  so  availed  myself  of  the  first  chance  for  a  meal. 


156  "MISS  LOU." 

Please  do  not  hesitate,  for  it  will  probably  be  my  only 
opportunity  of  saying  good-by." 

"  Dar  now,  honey,  sit  right  down.  Ef  Marse  Scoville  ain' 
quality  den  I  doan  know  urn." 

"Miss  Baron,"  cried  Scoville,  laughing,  "Aunt  Jinkey  has 
raised  a  point  now  which  you  alone  can  settle  —  the  question 
of  my  quality." 

"  About  the  same  as  my  own,  I  reckon,"  said  the  girl, 
sitting  down  with  rosy  cheeks.  "Aun'  Jinkey  is  evidently 
your  ally,  for  she  has  put  her  invitation  in  a  form  which  I 
could  not  decline  without  hurting  the  feelings  of"  — 

"  Your  sincere  and  grateful  friend,"  interrupted  the  officer. 

"  Uncle  and  aunt  would  think  I  was  committing  an  un-. 
heard-of  indiscretion." 

"But  are  you?  " 

"  I'm  too  hungry  to  discuss  the  question  now,"  she 
answered,  laughing.  "  Do  let  us  hasten,  for  such  old  friends 
should  not  part  with  their  mouths  full." 

"  Well,  hit  des  does  my  ole  heart  good  ter  see  you  sittin' 
dar,  Miss  Lou.  I'se  po'ful  glad  yo'  mouf 's  full  ob  breakfas' 
en  dat  yo'  eyes  ain'  full  ob  tears.  Wat  we  projeckin'  'bout 
y  is  tidy?  " 

"  Now,  Aun'  Jinkey,  just  keep  still.  I  can't  show  becom- 
ing sentiment  on  any  subject  except  pones  and  such  coifee 
as  I  have  not  tasted  for  a  long  time." 

"  Hit  Yankee  coffee." 

"I  drink  your  health  in  my  one  contribution,"  cried 
Scoville.  "  Never  mind,  aunty,  we'll  be  jolly  over  it  all  the 
same.  I  agree  with  you.  It's  worth  a  month's  pay  to  see 
Miss  Baron  happy  and  hungry.  I'd  like  to  know  who  has  a 
'  better  right.  Aunt  Jinkey's  told  me  how  you  protected  her. 
That  was  fine.    You'd  make  a  soldier." 

"  Oh,  please  stop  such  talk,  both  of  you.  I'm  ridiculously 
unlike  the  heroines  in  uncle's  library.     Lieutenant,  please 


A    WELL-AIMED  SLIPPER.  1 57 

don't  say  '  Ha  !  the  hour  has  come  and  we  must  part,  per- 
haps forever.'  I  won't  have  any  forever.  Uncle  Lusthah 
has  insured  you  gray  hairs,  and  if  you  don't  come  and  see 
us  before  they're  gray,  Aun'  Jinkey  and  I  will  believe  all 
uncle  says  about  the  Yankees." 

"  And  so  you  ought,"  said  Scoville.  "  Oh,  I'll  come  back 
to  breakfast  with  you  again,  if  I  have  to  come  on  crutches. 
Well,  I  must  go.  There  is  Chunk  with  the  horses.  Even 
now  I'm  keeping  one  ear  open  for  a  shot  from  that  hasty 
cousin  of  yours." 

At  this  reference  she  looked  grave  and  rose  from  the  table. 
"  Lieutenant,"  she  said,  taking  his  proffered  hand,  "  please 
do  not  think  me  a  giddy  child  nor  an  unfeeling  girl.  I  do 
thank  you.  I  do  wish  you  well  just  as  you  wish  me  well  — 
for  your  own  sake.  Oh,  it  seems  such  a  blessed  thing  for 
people  to  feel  simple,  honest  good-will  towards  one  another, 
without  having  some  scheme  back  of  it  all." 

"  Well,  Miss  Baron,  if  I  had  a  chance  I'd  soon  prove  that 
I  too  had  a  scheme.  The  chief  point  in  it  would  be  to  keep 
all  trouble  out  of  the  eyes  that  looked  on  me  so  kindly  when 
I  came  to  my  senses  in  this  cabin.  Heaven  bless  your  good, 
kind  heart !     Promise  me  one  thing." 

"Well?" 

"If  your  cousin  comes  soon  there  may  be  a  sharp  fight. 
Keep  out  of  danger.  I  could  never  be  myself  again  if  my 
coming  here  should  result  in  injury  to  you." 

"  As  far  as  my  curiosity  will  permit  I  will  try  to  keep  out 
of  the  way.  I've  seen  so  little  in  my  short  life  that  I  must 
make  the  most  of  this  brief  opportunity.  In  a  day  or  so  you 
may  all  be  gone,  and  then  the  old  humdrum  life  will  begin 
again." 

"  Yes,  we  may  all  be  gone  before  night.  Your  chief  danger 
then  will  be  from  the  stragglers  which  follow  the  army  like 
vultures.     If  possible,  I  will  induce  the  general  to  leave  a 


158  "MISS  LOCr." 

guard  to-night.  I  wish  Mr.  Baron  had  a  clearer  eye  to  his 
interests  and  safety.  The  general  is  not  lamb-like.  If  a 
guard  can  be  procured  for  to-night  it  will  be  due  to  your 
action  and  my  representations.  My  services  as  a  scout  have 
brought  me  in  rather  close  contact  with  the  general,  and 
possibly  I  may  induce  him  to  give  protection  as  long  as  the 
interest  of  the  service  permits.  All  questions  will  be 
decided  with  reference  to  the  main  chance ;  so,  if  I  seem 
neglectful,  remember  I  must  obey  my  orders,  whatever  they 
are.  -  Ah  !  there's  a  shot." 

Her  hand  ached  long  afterward  from  his  quick,  strong 
pressure,  and  then  he  mounted  and  was  away  at  a  gallop. 
Miss  Lou  hastily  returned  to  the  house,  but  Chunk  coolly 
entered  the  cabin,  saying,  "  I'se  git  a  bite  fer  mebbe  I  am' 
yere  ter  dinner." 

"Reck'n  you  better  be  skerce,  Chunk,  ef  Mad  Whately 
comes,"  said  his  grandmother,  trembling. 

"  I  knows  des  w'at  ter  'spect  fum  Mad  Whately  en  fum  dat 
ar  oberseer  too,  but  dey  fin'  me  a  uggly  ole  hornet.  I  got 
my  sting  han'y,"  and  he  tapped  the  butt  of  a  revolver  in  the 
breast  of  his  coat.  Having  devoured  the  remnants  of  the 
breakfast  he  darted  out  and  mounted  his  horse  also. 

Mad  Whately  was  coming  sure  enough,  and  like  a  whirl- 
wind. He  had  fallen  in  with  the  van  of  the  Confederate 
advance  during  the  night,  and  by  his  representations  had 
induced  an  early  and  forced  march  to  The  Oaks.  The  vigi- 
lant Scoville,  with  his -experiences  as  a  scout  fresh  in  his 
mind,  had  foreseen  this  possibility.  He  had  two  plans  in 
his  mind  and  was  ready  to  act  upon  either  of  them. 

Rushing  through  the  hallway  of  the  mansion  from  the  rear 
entrance,  Miss  Lou  found  her  kindred  on  the  veranda.  They 
were  too  excited  and  eager  to  ask  where  she  had  been,  for  the 
fierce  rebel  yell  had  already  been  raised  at  the  entrance  of 
the  avenue. 


A    WELL-AIMED  SLIPPER.  1 59 

"  Ah  !  "  exclaimed  Mr.  Baron,  "  now  we'll  see  this  Yankee 
scum  swept  away." 

Apparently  he  would  have  good  reason  for  his  exultation. 
Scoville  was  the  last  man  in  the  world  to  fight  blindly,  and 
Miss  Lou  kept  her  eyes  on  him.  As  he  sat  on  his  horse, 
where  he  commanded  the  best  view  of  the  advancing  enemy, 
she  thought  he  appeared  wonderfully  quiet.  Not  so  his  men. 
They  were  galloping  to  the  right  of  the  mansion,  where  there 
was  a  grove  on  rising  ground  which  formed  a  long  ridge 
stretching  away  to  the  northwest.  It  can  readily  be  guessed 
that  it  was  Scoville 's  aim  not  to  be  cut  off  from  the  main 
Union  column  by  a  superior  force,  and  the  ridge  would 
enable  him  to  see  his  enemy  before  he  fought,  if  he  should 
deem  it  wise  to  fight  at  all.  He  knew  that  his  horses  were 
fresh.  If  those  of  the  attacking  party  were  somewhat  blown 
he  could  easily  keep  out  of  the  way  if  it  were  too  strong  to 
cope  with.  He  exchanged  a  few  words  with  the  sergeant 
commanding  the  scouting  party  recently  sent  out,  and 
pointed  to  the  grove  with  his  sabre,  then  slowly  followed 
with  his  eye  on  the  enemy. 

Miss  Lou  was  in  a  fever  of  apprehension  in  his  behalf,  for 
already  shots  were  fired  at  him  from  the  Confederates. 
Suddenly  she  heard  the  click  of  a  musket  lock  just  beneath 
her,  and,  looking  down,  saw  Perkins  levelling  a  piece  at 
Scoville.  Quick  as  light  she  drew  off  her  slipper  and 
dashed  it  into  the  man's  face  as  he  fired.  By  reason  of  his 
disconcerted  aim  the  bullet  flew  harmlessly  by  the  Union 
officer,  who  gave  a  quick,  stern  glance  towards  his  assailant, 
recognized  him,  and  galloped  after  his  men. 

"  You  vile  murderer  !  "  cried  Miss  Lou,  "  would  you  shoot 
a  man  in  his  back?" 

"Oh,  come,  Perkins,  that's  hardly  the  thing,  no  matter 
what  your  provocation,"  Mr.  Baron  added. 

Perkins  bestowed  a  malignant  glance  on  Miss  Lou,  then 


l6o  "MISS  LOU."  * 

limped  away,  wearing  a  sullen  look.  The  officer  in  com- 
mand of  the  Confederates  sheered  off  across  the  lawn  towards 
the  grove,  and  the  girl  quickly  saw  that  his  force  greatly  out- 
numbered that  of  Scoville.  Mad  Whately  dashed  up  to  the 
piazza  steps  and  asked  breathlessly,  "Are  you  all  safe?" 

"  Yes,"  cried  his  mother.  "  Thank  God  !  I  see  you  are 
safe  also." 

He  turned  his  eyes  on  his  cousin,  but  in  her  cold,  steady 
gaze  found  no  encouragement.  With  something  like  an 
oath,  he  turned  and  galloped  after  the  attacking  force. 

But  Scoville  did  not  wait  to  be  attacked.  He  continued 
with  his  men  along  the  ridge,  retreating  rapidly  when 
pressed,  pausing  when  pursuit  slackened.  The  officer  in 
command  soon  remarked  to  Whately,  "  We  are  using  up  our 
horses  to  no  purpose,  and  we  shall  need  them  for  more 
important  work  later  in  the  day." 

Therefore  he  sounded  recall  and  retired  on  the  mansion, 
Scoville  following,  thus  proving  that  he  was  governed  by 
other  motives  than  fear.  Indeed,  he  was  in  a  very  genial 
frame  of  mind.  He  had  got  all  his  men  off  safely,  except 
two  or  three  laggards,  and  had  already  sent  swift  riders  to 
inform  his  general  of  the  situation.  Knowing  that  the  tables 
would  soon  be  turned,  he  was  quite  content  that  he  had  not 
made  an  obstinate  and  useless  resistance.  "  What's  more," 
he  thought,  "  Miss  Lou  would  not  have  kept  out  of  danger. 
It  isn't  in  her  nature  to  do  so.  Miss  Lou  !  I  wish  I  might 
call  her  that  some  day  and  then  drop  the  Miss.  One  thing 
is  clear.  If  I  meet  that  cousin  again,  he'll  show  me  no 
quarter.  So  I  must  look  out  for  him  and  that  assassin  of  an 
overseer,  too.  She  called  him  by  his  right  name,  the  brave 
little  girl !  No  need  of  asking  me  to  come  back,  for  I'd  go 
to  the  ends  of  the  earth  to  see  her  again." 

If  he  had  known  how  her  presence  of  mind  and  swift 
action  had  in  all  probability  saved  his  life,  his  feelings  would 


A    WELL-AIMED  SLIPPER.  l6l 

have  been  far  more  vivid,  while  his  belief  in  the  luck  of 
throwing  an  old  shoe  would  have  become  one  of  the  tenets 
of  his  faith.  Miss  Lou  went  after  the  extemporized  missile 
and  put  it  on  again,  saying,  "  I  have  fired  my  first  and  last 
shot  in  this  war." 

"  It  is  indeed  becoming  doubtful  on  which  side  you  are," 
answered  her  uncle  sternly. 

"  I'm  not  on  the  side  of  that  wretch  Perkins.  Suppose 
he  had  succeeded,  and  Lieutenant  Scoville's  general  came 
here,  what  mercy  could  we  expect?  If  Perkins  values  his 
life  he  had  better  not  be  caught." 

"  I  am  glad  indeed,  Louise,  that  you  prevented  such  a 
thing  from  happening,"  said  Mrs.  Whately.  "The  result 
might  have  been  very  disastrous,  and  in  any  event  would 
have  been  horrible.  It  was  a  brave,  sensible  thing  to  do, 
and  you  will  find  that  Madison  will  think  so,  too." 

Mad  Whately,  however,  was  in  any  thing  but  a  judicial 
mood. 


1 62  "MISS  LOU." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 
A  girl's  appeal. 

MISS  LOU  was  too  well  acquainted  with  her  cousin  not 
to  recognize  evidences  of  almost  ungovernable  rage 
during  the  brief  moment  he  had  paused  at  the  veranda. 
She  looked  significantly  at  his  mother,  whose  face  was  pale 
and  full  of  an  apprehension  now  uncalled  for,  since  the 
prospect  of  an  immediate  battle  had  passed  away.  "  She  is 
afraid  of  him  herself,  her  own  son,  and  yet  she  would  marry 
me  to  him,"  the  girl  thought  bitterly. 

Miss  Lou  was  mistaken.  Her  aunt  had  fears  orhy  for  her 
son,  knowing  how  prone  he  was  to  rash,  headlong  action 
when  almost  insane  from  passion.  The  girl,  however,  was 
elated  and  careless.  She  justly  exulted  in  the  act  by  which 
she  had  baffled  the  vengeance  of  Perkins,  and  she  had 
ceased  to  have  the  anxieties  of  a  bitter  Southern  partisan. 
Such  she  would  have  been  but  for  her  alienation  from  those 
identified  with  the  cause.  She  was  capable  of  the  most 
devoted  loyalty,  but  to  whom  should  she  give  it  ?  If  a  lov- 
ing father  or  brother  had  been  among  the  Confederates, 
there  would  have  been  no  question.  Now  she  was  sorely 
perplexed  in  her  feelings,  for  the  South  was  represented  by 
those  bent  upon  doing  her  a  wrong  at  which  her  very  soul 
revolted,  and  the  North  by  one  who  had  satisfied  her  sense 
of  right  and  justice,  who,  more  than  all,  had  warmed  her 
heart  by  kindness.  The  very  friendliness  of  the  negroes 
inclined  her  to  take  their  part  almost  involuntarily,  so  deep 


A   CIRVS  APPEAL.  1 63 

was  the  craving  of  her  chilled  nature  for  sympathy.  If  she 
had  been  brought  up  in  loving  dependence  she  would  not 
have  been  so  well  equipped  for  the  chaotic  emergency. 
Having  no  hope  of  good  counsel  from  natural  advisers,  she 
did  not  waste  a  moment  in  seeking  it,  or  weakly  hesitate  for 
its  lack.  What  her  bright,  active  mind  suggested  as  right 
and  best,  that  she  was  ready  to  do  instantly.  Now  that  she 
had  gained  freedom  she  would  keep  it  at  all  hazards. 

When  the  Confederate  officers  approached  the  house,  she 
was  glad  to  observe  that  her  cousin  was  not  chief  in  com- 
mand. 

Mr.  Baron  went  down  upon  the  lawn  to  meet  the  officers, 
and,  after  a  brief  parley,  Major  Brockton,  the  senior  in 
command,  began  to  dispose  of  his  men  for  a  little  rest  and 
refreshment,  promising  to  join  the  family  soon  in  the 
dining-room.  Miss  Lou,  unasked,  now  aided  in  the*  prepa- 
rations for  the  morning  meal.  Fearing  Aun'  Suke  would  get 
herself  in  trouble,  she  ran  to  the  kitchen  and  told  the  old 
cook  to  comply  with  all  demands  as  best  she  could.  She 
had  scarcely  spoken  when  Mrs.  Baron  entered.  Casting  a 
severe  look  on  her  niece,  she  asked  Aun'  Suke,  "  Will  you 
obey  me  now  ?    Will  you  tell  me  you  are  a  free  woman  now  ?  " 

"  My  haid  in  a  whirl  aready,  misus.  Ef  you  wants  me  ter 
I  kin  cook,  but  I  kyant  keep  track  ob  de  goin's  on." 

"I  can,"  replied  the  indomitable  old  lady,  "and  I  can 
keep  a  good  memory  of  the  behavior  of  all  on  the  planta- 
tion." 

"  You  can't  govern  much  longer  by  fear,  aunt,"  said  Miss 
Lou.     "  Had  you  not  better  try  a  little  kindness?  " 

"What  has  been  the  result  of  all  the  years  of  kindness 
bestowed  upon  you?  "  was  the  indignant  answer. 

"  I  only  meant  that  it  might  be  well  to  bestow  a  little  of 
what  other  people  regard  as  kindness.  I  had  asked  Aun' 
Suke  to  do  her  best  and  am  sure  she  will." 


164  "MISS  LOU." 

"  It  will  be  strange  if  she  does,  when  you  are  setting  the 
example  of  doing  your  worst.  But  I  am  mistress  once  more, 
and  wish  no  interference." 

"  Doan  you  worry,  honey,  'bout  we  uns,"  said  Aun'  Suke 
quietly.  "  We  yeard  de  soun'  fum  far  away,  en  we  year  it 
agin  soon." 

Meanwhile  Mad  Whately  was  closeted  with  his  uncle  and 
mother,  listening  with  a  black  frown  to  all  that  had  occurred. 

"I  tell  you,"  exclaimed  the  young  man,  "it's  as  clear  as 
the  sun  in  the  sky  that  she  should  be  sent  away  at  once  — 
in  fact,  that  you  all  should  go." 

"  I  won't  go,"  said  Mr.  Baron,  "  neither  will  my  wife.  If 
the  country  has  come  to  such  a  pass  that  we  must  die  on 
our  hearths  we  will  die  right  here." 

"  Then  with  my  whole  authority,  mother,  I  demand  that 
you  and  my  cousin  go  at  once  while  opportunity  still  remains. 
The  forces  on  both  sides  are  concentrating  here,  and  this 
house  may  soon  be  in  the  midst  of  a  battle.  Lou  will  be 
exposed  to  every  chance  of  war.  By  Heaven  !  the  girl  to  be 
my  wife  shall  not  trifle  with  me  longer.  O  mother !  how 
could  you  let  her  walk  and  talk  alone  with  that  Yankee  offi- 
cer?" 

"  I  tell  you  both  you  are  taking  the  wrong  course  with 
Louise,"  began  Mrs.  Whately. 

"  You  never  spoke  a  truer  word,  auntie,"  said  Miss  Lou, 
entering. 

Stung  to  the  quick,  Whately  sprung  up  and  said  sternly, 
"  In  this  emergency  I  am  the  head  of  my  family.  I  com- 
mand you  to  be  ready  within  an  hour  to  go  away  with  my 
mother.  Perkins  and  a  small  guard  will  go  with  you  "to 
my  cousin's  house." 

"  Go  away  with  that  cowardly  wretch,  Perkins  ?    Never  !  " 

"  You  are  to  go  away  with  your  aunt  and  my  mother,  and 
you  cannot  help  yourself.    Your  readiness  to  receive  atten- 


A    GIRL'S  APPEAL.  \6$ 

tions  from  a  miserable  Yankee  cub  shows  how  little  you  are 
to  be  trusted.  I  tell  you  for  the  honor  of  our  house  you 
shall  go  away.  I'd  shoot  you  rather  than  have  it  occur 
again." 

"  You  silly,  spoiled,  passionate  boy  !  "  exclaimed  Miss 
Lou,  rendered  self-possessed  by  the  very  extravagance  of 
her  cousin's  anger.  "Do  you  suppose  I  will  take  either 
command  or  counsel  from  one  who  is  beside  himself? 
Come,  Cousin  Mad,  cool  off,  or  you'll  have  some  more 
repenting  at  leisure  to  do." 

She  walked  quietly  out  of  the  room  to  the  veranda  just  as 
Major  Brockton  was  about  to  announce  himself. 

"  Miss  Baron  I  presume,"  he  said,  doffing  his  hat. 

"Yes,  sir.  Please  sit  down.  I  think  we  shall  soon  be 
summoned  to  breakfast.  If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst," 
she  resolved,  "  I  can  appeal  to  this  officer  for  protection." 

"  Mother,"  said  VVhately  in  a  choking  voice,  "  be  ready 
to  go  the  moment  you  have  your  breakfast." 

His  passion  was  so  terrible  that  she  made  a  feint  of  obey- 
ing, while  he  rushed  out  of  the  rear  door.  Perkins  readily 
entered  into  the  plan,  and  gave  Whately  further  distorted 
information  about  Miss  Lou's  recent  interview  with  Scoville. 
Mrs.  Whately's  horses  were  quickly  harnessed  to  her  car- 
riage, and  Perkins  drove  it  near  to  the  back  entrance  to  the 
mansion. 

As  VVhately  entered  his  mother  put  her  hand  on  his  arm, 
and  warned,  "  Madison,  I  fear  you  are  all  wrong  "  — 

"  Mother,  I  will  be  obeyed  at  once.  The  carriage  is 
ready.  My  own  men,  who  have  been  paroled,  will  act  as 
escort.     Lou  shall  go  if  taken  by  force." 

"  Madison,  what  can  you  hope  from  a  wife  won  by  such 
violence  ?  " 

"  She  will  fear  and  obey  me  the  rest  of  her  life.  I'd  rather 
die  ten  thousand  deaths  than  be  balked  after  what  she  has 


1 66  "MISS  LOU." 

said.  Come,  let's  go  through  the  form  of  breakfast  and 
then  I  shall  act." 

They  found  Miss  Lou  with  her  uncle,  aunt,  and  Major 
Brockton  already  at  the  table.  The  major  at  once  resumed 
his  condolences.  "  I  am  very  sorry  indeed,"  he  said,  "  that 
you  ladies  are  compelled  to  leave  your  home." 

"  Do  you  think  it  wisest  and  best  that  we  should  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Whately  quickly,  hoping  that  her  niece  would  feel  the 
force  of  the  older  officer's  decision. 

"  Yes,  madam,  I  do.  I  think  that  the  sooner  you  all  are 
south  of  our  advance  the  better.  It  is  possible  that  a  battle 
may  take  place  on  this  very  ground,  although  I  hope  not. 
As  soon  as  my  men  have  had  something  to  eat  I  shall  follow 
the  Yankees,  a  course  I  trust  that  will  bring  on  the  action 
elsewhere ;  but  this  region  will  probably  become  one  of 
strife  and  turmoil  for  a  time.  It  won't  last  long,  however, 
and  if  the  house  is  spared  I  think  you  can  soon  return." 

Mrs.  Baron  poured  the  coffee  and  then  excused  herself. 
A  few  moments  later  Miss  Lou,  who  was  very  observant,  noted 
a  significant  glance  from  Zany.  As  the  dusky  waitress  started 
ostensibly  for  the  kitchen,  the  young  girl  immediately  fol- 
lowed her.  Whately  hesitated  a  moment  or  two,  then  left 
the  breakfast  room  also.  But  Zany  had  had  time  to  whis- 
per: 

"  O  Miss  Lou,  Miss  Whately's  keridge's  at  de  do',  en 
Perkins  en  sogers  wid  it.     Ole  miss  in  yo'  room  en  "  — 

"  Quit  that,"  said  Whately  in  a  low,  stern  voice,  and  Zany 
scuttled  away. 

."Now,  then,"  resumed  Whately  to  his  cousin,  "if  you  have 
any  dignity  or  sense  left,  get  ready  at  once.  I  can  tell  you 
that  I'm  far  past  being  trifled  with  now." 

"I'll  finish  my  breakfast  first,  if  you  please,"  was  the 
quiet  response,  so  quiet  that  he  was  misled,  and  imagined 
her  will  breaking  before  his  purpose. 


A    GIRVS  APPEAL.  167 

They  were  scarcely  seated  at  the  table  again  before  she 
startled  them  all  by  saying,  "  Major  Brockton,  I  appeal  to 
you  as  a  Southern  gentleman  and  a  Southern  officer,  for 
protection." 

"Why,  Miss  Baron!"  exclaimed  the  major,  "you  fairly 
take  away  my  breath." 

"  Little  wonder,  sir.     I  have  had  mine  taken  away." 

"  Louise,  you  are  insane  !  "  cried  Mr.  Baron,  starting  up. 

"  Major,  you  can  see  for  yourself  that  I  am  not  insane,  that 
I  have  perfect  self-control.  As  you  are  a  true  man  I  plead 
with  you  not  to  let  my  cousin  send  me  away.  He  can  only 
do  so  by  force,  but  I  plead  with  you  not  to  permit  it.  If  I 
must  I  will  tell  you  all,  but  I'd  rather  not.  I  am  an  orphan 
and  so  have  sacred  claims  on  every  true  man,  and  I  appeal 
to  you.  I  do  not  fear  any  battle  that  may  be  fought  here, 
but  I  do  fear  being  sent  away,  and  with  good  reason." 

"  O  Louise  ! "  cried  Mrs.  Whately,  with  scarlet  face,  "  you 
place  us  in  a  horrible  position." 

"  Not  in  so  horrible  a  one  as  I  have  been  placed,  and 
which  I  will  not  risk  again,  God  is  my  witness." 

Major  Brockton  looked  very  grave,  for  he  was  acquainted 
with  Whately's  recklessness.  The  young  man  himself  was 
simply  speechless  from  rage,  but  Mr.  Baron  sprung  up  and 
said  sternly,  "  You  shall  hear  the  whole  truth,  sir.  It  can  be 
quickly  told,  and  then  you  can  judge  whether  I,  as  guardian, 
am  capable  of  countenancing  any  thing  unwarranted  by  the 
highest  sense  of  honor.  This  girl,  my  niece,  has  been  virtually 
betrothed  to  her  cousin  since  childhood.  I  and  her  aunts 
deemed  it  wisest  and  safest,  in  view  of  dangers  threatening 
the  direst  evils,  that  she  should  be  married  at  once  and 
escorted  by  my  sister  and  her  son  to  the  house  of  a  relative 
residing  further  south.  First  and  last,  we  were  considering 
her  interests,  and  above  all,  her  safety.     That's  all." 

"  No,  it   is  not  all,"  cried  Miss  Lou,  with  a   passionate 


1 68  "MISS  LOU." 

pathos  in  her  voice  which  touched  the  major's  heart. 
"  Would  you,  sir,  force  a  girl,  scarcely  more  than  a  child, 
to  marry  a  man  when  you  knew  that  she  would  rather  die 
first  ?  Safety  !  What  would  I  care  for  safety  after  the  worst 
had  happened  ?  I  will  not  be  married  like  a  slave  girl.  I 
will  not  go  away  to  Lieutenant  Whately's  relations  unless 
I  am  taken  by  force." 

"  Great  God,  sir,  that  I  should  hear  a  Southern  girl  make 
such  an  appeal,"  said  Major  Brockton,  his  face  dark  with 
indignation.  "  We  are  justly  proud  of  the  respect  we  show 
to  our  women,  and  who  more  entitled  to  respect  than  this 
orphan  girl,  scarcely  more  than  a  child,  as  she  says  herself. 
Good  Heaven !  Whately,  could  you  not  have  protected 
your  cousin  as  you  would  your  sister?  You  say,  sir"  (to 
Mr.  Baron)  "  that  she  was  betrothed  from  childhood.  She 
didn't  betroth  herself  in  childhood,  did  she  ?  Believe  me, 
Miss  Baron,  no  one  has  the  power  to  force  you  into  mar- 
riage, although  your  kindred  should  use  all  means,  while  you 
are  so  young,  to  prevent  an  unworthy  alliance." 

"  I  had  no  thought  of  marriage,  sir,  until  terrified  by  my 
cousin's  purpose  and  my  family's  urgency  but  a  day  since. 
I  am  willing  to  pay  them  all  respect  and  deference  if  they 
will  treat  me  as  if  I  had  some  rights  and  feelings  of  my  own. 
My  only  wish  is  a  little  of  the  freedom  which  I  feel  a  girl 
should  enjoy  when  as  old  as  I  am.  I  detest  and  fear  the 
man  whom  my  cousin  has  selected  to  take  me  away.  I  do 
not  fear  a  battle.  They  all  can  tell  you  that  I  stood  on  the 
piazza  when  bullets  were  flying.  I  only  ask  and  plead  that 
I  may  stay  in  such  a  home  as  I  have.  My  old  mammy  is 
here  and  "  — 

"  Well,"  ejaculated  the  major,  "  have  you  no  stronger  tie 
than  that  of  a  slave  mammy  in  your  home?  " 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  be  unjust,  sir.  I  try  to  think  my  aunt 
and  uncle  mean  well  by  me,  but  they  can't  seem  to  realize 


A    GIRL'S  APPEAL.  1 69 

that  I  have  any  rights  whatever.  As  for  my  cousin,  he  has 
always  had  what  lie  wanted,  and  now  he  wants  me." 

"  That  is  natural  enough ;  but  let  him  win  you,  if  he  can, 
like  a  Southern  gentleman.  Lieutenant  Whately,  I  order 
you  to  your  duty.  Mr.  Baron,  if  you  wish  to  send  your 
ladies  away  and  go  with  them,  I  will  furnish  an  escort.  Any 
Southern  home  beyond  the  field  of  hostilities  will  be  open 
to  you.  Acquaint  me  with  your  decision,"  and  he  bowed 
and  strode  away. 

Even  the  most  prejudiced  and  blind  are  compelled  at 
times  by  an  unhesitating  and  impartial  opinion  to  see  things 
somewhat  in  their  true  light.  Long-cherished  purposes  and 
habits  of  thought  in  regard  to  Miss  Lou,  then  panic,  and 
strong  emotions  mixed  with  good  and  evil,  had  brought  the 
girl's  relatives  into  their  present  false  relations  to  her.  After 
the  scene  at  the  attempted  wedding,  Mrs.  Whately  would  have 
returned  to  safe  and  proper  ground,  hoping  still  to  win  by 
kindness  and  coaxing.  She  had  learned  that  Miss  Lou  was 
not  that  kind  of  girl,  who  more  or  less  reluctantly  could 
be  urged  into  marriage  and  then  make  the  best  of  it  as  a 
matter  of  course.  This  fact  only  made  her  the  more  eager 
for  the  union,  because  by  means  of  it  she  hoped  to  secure  a 
balance-wheel  for  her  son.  But  the  blind,  obstinate  per- 
sistence on  the  part  of  the  Barons  in  their  habitual  attitude 
towards  their  niece,  and  now  her  son's  action,  had  placed 
them  all  in  a  most  humiliating  light.  Even  Mr.  Baron,  who 
had  always  been  so  infallible  in  his  autocratic  ways  and 
beliefs,  knew  not  how  to  answer  the  elderly  major.  Whately 
himself,  in  a  revulsion  of  feeling  common  to  his  nature,  felt 
that  his  cousin  had  been  right,  and  that  a  miserable  space 
for  repentance  was  before  him,  not  so  much  for  the  wrong 
he  had  purposed,  as  for  the  woful  unwisdom  of  his  tactics 
and  their  ignominious  failure.  His  training  as  a  soldier  led 
him  to  obey  without  a  word. 


170  "MISS  LOU." 

Miss  Lou  was  magnanimous  in  her  victory.  "  Cousin 
Madison,"  she  said  earnestly,  "why  don't  you  end  this  wicked 
nonsense  and  act  like  a  cousin?  As  such  I  have  no  ill-will 
towards  you,  but  I  think  you  and  uncle  must  now  see  I'll 
stop  at  nothing  that  will  keep  me  from  becoming  your  wife. 
There's  no  use  of  trying  to  make  me  think  I'm  wrong  in  my 
feelings,  for  I  now  believe  every  true  man  would  side  with 
me.  Be  my  cousin  and  friend  and  I  will  give  you  my  hand 
here  and  now  in  good-will." 

But  his  anger  was  too  strong  to  permit  any  such  sensible 
action,  and  he  rushecf  away  without  a  word. 

"  Madison  !  "  called  his  mother.  "  Oh,  I'm  just  over- 
whelmed," and  she  covered  her  face  with  her  hands  and 
burst  into  tears. 

"Well,"  said  Mr.  Baron  in  a  sort  of  dreary  apathy,  "do 
you  and  Louise  wish  to  go  away  under  an  escort  furnished 
by  the  major?" 

"  No,"  cried  Mrs.  Whately,  "  I  would  accept  any  fate 
rather  than  favor  at  his  hands.  If  I  could  only  explain  to  him 
more  fully  —  yet  how  can  I  ?  My  son,  with  all  his  faults,  is 
all  I  have  to  live  for.  I  shall  stay  near  him  while  I  can,  for 
he  will  be  reckless  to-day.  My  heart  is  just  breaking  with 
forebodings.  Oh,  why  couldn't  you,  with  your  gray  hairs, 
have  shown  a  little  wisdom  in  helping  me  restrain  him?  " 

"  I  reckon  the  restraining  should  have  been  practised  long 
ago,"  replied  her  brother  irritably. 

"  You  have  practised  nothing  but  restraint  in  the  case  of 
Louise,  and  what  is  the  result?" 

The  girl  looked  at  them  wonderingly  in  their  abject  help- 
lessness, and  then  said,  "  If  you  are  taking  it  for  granted  that 
I  am  spoiled  beyond  remedy,  I  can't  help  it.  I  would  have 
made  no  trouble  if  you  had  not  set  about  making  me  trouble 
without  end.  As  soon  as  I  can  I'll  go  away  and  take  care 
of  myself." 


A    GIRL'S  APPEAL.  1 71 

"Of  course,  Louise,"  said  Mrs.  Whately,  "we're  all  wrong, 
you  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us.  We  must  try  to  get  this  snarl 
untangled  and  begin  right.     The  idea  of  your  going  away  !  " 

"  I  supposed  that  was  the  only  idea,"  said  Mrs.  Baron, 
entering.  "  I,  at  least,  have  tried  to  remedy  our  niece's  per- 
verseness  by  getting  her  things  ready." 

Mrs.  Whately  wrung  her  hands  in  something  like  despair, 
while  Miss  Lou  burst  into  a  peal  of  half-nervous  laughter  at 
the  expression  on  her  uncle|s  face.  "Well,"  she  said, 
"  there'll  be  no  more  trouble  as  far  as  I  am  concerned  unless 
it's  of  your  own  making.  If  I  am  protected  in  my  home,  I 
shall  stay ;  if  not,  I  shall  leave  it.  One  learns  fast  in  such 
ordeals  as  I  have  passed  through.  Aunt  Sarah,  your  son 
threatened  to  shoot  me  for  doing  what  you  permitted.  Sup- 
pose I  had  told  Major  Brockton  that  ?  I  made  allowances 
for  Madison's  passion,  but  unless  he  learns  to  control  him- 
self he  will  have  to  vent  his  passion  on  some  one  else." 

"  She  has  just  lost  her  senses,"  gasped  Mrs.  Baron. 

"  No,  we  have  acted  as  if  we  had  lost  ours,"  said  Mrs. 
Whately,  rising  with  dignity.  "  I  can't  reason  with  either  of 
you  any  more,  for  you  have  made  up  your  minds  that  a  spade 
is  not  a  spade.  I  shall  tell  my  niece  that  hereafter  I  shall 
treat  her  kindly  and  rationally,  and  then  go  home,"  and  she 
left  husband  and  wife  confronting  each  other. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do? "  asked  the  wife. 

"Do  !"  exploded  the  husband  in  desperation,  "why,  hump 
myself  and  restore  every  thing  in  a  twinkling  as  it  was  five 
years  ago.     What  else  can  I  do  ?  " 

Even  Mrs.  Baron  was  speechless  at  this  admission  that 
events  had  now  passed  far  beyond  his  control. 


172  "MISS  LOU." 


M 


CHAPTER  XX. 

scoville's  hope. 

RS.  WHATELY  found  her  niece  on  the  veranda 
watching  the  proceedings  without,  and  she  lost  no 
time  in  expressing  her  purpose.  To  her  surprise,  a  pair  of 
arms  were  around  her  neck  instantly,  and  a  kiss  was  pressed 
upon  her  lips. 

"  That's  my  answer,"  said  Miss  Lou,  who  was  as  ready  to 
forgive  and  forget  as  a  child.  "If  you  say  a  word  about 
going  home  I  shall  be  unhappy.  See,  auntie,  the  Yankees 
are  retreating  again  as  our  men  advance." 

The  morning  sun  was  now  shining  brightly  and  the  day 
growing  very  warm.  Before  them  was  the  scene  of  military 
operations.  At  present,  it  afforded  a  deeply  exciting  spec- 
tacle, yet  oppressed  with  no  sense  of  personal  danger. 
Scoville's  little  force  was  slowly  retiring  along  the  ridge 
which  the  Confederates  were  approaching,  thus  removing 
the  theatre  of  actual  conflict  from  the  vicinity  of  the  dwelling. 

Mr.  Baron  appeared  on  the  veranda  and  soon  began  to 
yield  to  the  soothing  influences  of  his  pipe.  It  was  not  in 
his  nature  to  make  any  formal  acknowledgments  of  error, 
but  he  felt  that  he  had  gone  on  the  wrong  track  far  and  long 
enough,  and  so  was  ready  for  a  gradual  amelioration  in  his 
relations  to  his  niece  and  sister.  They  had  become  too 
absorbed  in  the  scene  before  them  to  think  of  much  else, 
while  Mrs.  Baron  sought  composure  and  solace  in  her 
domestic  affairs.  > 


SCOVILLE' S  HOPE.  1 73 

At  last  Mrs.  Whately  said,  "  The  Yankees  appear  to  have 
stopped  retreating  and  to  be  increasing  in  numbers.  Alas  ! 
I  fear  our  men  are  in  great  danger  and  that  the  main  column 
of  the  enemy  is  near." 

There  was  a  sudden  outbreak  of  cries  and  exclamations 
from  the  negroes  in  the  rear  of  the  mansion.  Zany  rushed 
out,  saying,  "De  Yanks  comin'  by  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin." 

She  had  scarcely  spoken  before  they  heard  a  rush  of 
trampling  steeds  and  the  head  of  a  Union  column  swept 
round  the  house.  Miss  Lou  saw  Scoville  leading  and  knew 
that  he  had  availed  himself  of  his  acquaintance  with  the 
place  to  guide  an  attack  upon  the  Confederates  in  their  rear. 
He  saluted  her  with  his  sabre  and  smiled  as  he  passed,  but 
her  sympathies  were  with  the  major,  now  taken  at  such  dis- 
advantage. At  this  period  the  troops  on  both  sides  were 
veterans,  and  neither  fought  nor  ran  away  without  good 
reason.  Major  Brockton  knew  as  well  what  to  do  as  had 
Scoville  before  him,  and  retreated  at  a  gallop  with  his  men 
towards  the  southwest,  whence  his  supports  were  advancing. 
The  Union  attack,  however,  had  been  something  of  a  sur- 
prise and  a  number  of  the  Confederates  were  cut  off. 

The  scene  and  event  had  been  one  to  set  every  nerve 
tingling.  But  a  few  yards  away  the  Union  force  had  rushed 
by  like  a  living  torrent,  the  ground  trembling  under  the  iron 
tread  of  the  horses.  Far  more  impressive  had  been  the 
near  vision  of  the  fierce,  bronzed  faces  of  the  troopers,  their 
eyes  gleaming  like  their  sabres,  with  the  excitement  of  battle. 
Scoville  won  her  admiration  unstintedly,  even  though  she 
deprecated  his  purpose.  His  bearing  was  so  fearless,  so 
jaunty  even  in  its  power,  that  he  seemed  as  brave  as  any 
knight  in  the  old-fashioned  romances  she  had  read,  yet  so 
real  and  genial  that  it  was  hard  to  believe  he  was  facing 
death  that  sunny  morning  or  bent  upon  inflicting  it.  Look- 
ing at  his  young,  smiling,  care -free  face,  one  could  easily 


174  "MISS  LOU." 

imagine  that  he  was  taking  part  in  a  military  pageant ;  but 
the  headlong  career  and  flashing  weapons  of  his  men,  who 
deployed  as  they  charged  straight  at  the  Confederates, 
dispelled  any  such  illusion. 

The  ridge  began  to  grow  black  with  Union  men  and  Miss 
Lou  soon  perceived  the  gleam  of  artillery  as  the  guns  were 
placed  in  position.  Mr.  Baron,  who  had  permitted  his  pipe 
to  go  out  in  the  excitement,  groaned,  "The  Yanks  have 
come  in  force  and  are  forming  a  line  of  battle  yonder.  If 
our  troops  come  up,  the  fight  will  take  place  on  my  land. 
Lord  help  us  !     What's  coming  next? " 

Miss  Lou  began  to  receive  impressions  which  filled  her 
with  awe.  Heretofore  she  had  been  intensely  excited  by 
what  had  been  mere  skirmishes,  but  now  she  witnessed  prepa- 
rations for  a  battle.  That  long  line  of  dark  blue  on  the  ridge 
portended  something  more  terrible  than  she  could  imagine. 
The  sounds  of  conflict  died  away  down  the  main  road,  the 
ring  of  axes  was  heard  in  the  grove  which  crowned  the  ridge 
near  the  mansion,  and  Mr.  Baron  groaned  again.  Thin  curls 
of  smoke  began  to  define  the  Union  position  —  before  noon 
thousands  of  coffee-pots  were  simmering  on  the  fires. 

At  last,  a  tall  man,  followed  by  a  little  group  of  officers 
and  a  squadron  of  cavalry,  rode  down  the  ridge  towards  the 
mansion.  These  troopers  surrounded  the  house,  forming 
one  circle  near  and  another  much  further  away,  so  that  none 
could  approach  without  causing  prompt  alarm.  The  group 
of  officers  dismounted  and  orderlies  held  their  horses.  As 
the  tall  man  came  up  the  veranda  steps  Miss  Lou  saw  two 
white  stars  on  his  shoulder.  Then  her  uncle  advanced 
reluctantly  and  this  man  said,  "  Mr.  Baron,  I  presume  ?  " 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  My  name  is  Marston,  commanding  officer.  This  is  my 
staff.  Will  you  oblige  us  by  as  good  a  meal  as  can  be  pro- 
vided hastily?    I  will  pay  for  it." 


SCOVILLE'S  HOPE.  1 75 

"  No,  sir,  you  cannot  pay  for  it,"  replied  Mr.  Baron  indig- 
nantly. "  I  keep  a  house  of  entertainment  only  for  my 
friends.  At  the  same  time  I  know  your  request  is  equiva- 
lent to  a  command,  and  we  will  do  the  best  we  can." 

"  Very  well,  sir.  I  can  repay  you  in  a  way  that  will  be 
satisfactory  to  my  mind  and  be  more  advantageous  to  you. 
Hartly,  tell  the  officer  in  command  to  permit  no  depreda- 
tions. Ladies,  your  servant,"  and  the  general  dropped  into 
a  chair  as  if  weary. 

Some  of  the  younger  officers  promptly  sought  to  play 
the  agreeable  to  Mrs.  Whately  and  her  niece,  and  upon  the 
latter  all  eyes  rested  in  undisguised  admiration.  Cold  and 
shy  as  she  had  appeared,  she  had  not  failed  to  note  the  fact. 
The  woman  was  sufficiently  developed  within  her  for  this, 
and  the  quick,  unanimous  verdict  of  these  strangers  and 
enemies  in  regard  to  herself  which  she  read  in  their  eyes 
came  with  almost  the  force  of  a  revelation.  For  the  first 
time,  she  truly  became  conscious  of  her  beauty  and  its 
power.  More  than  ever,  she  exulted  in  her  escape  and 
freedom,  thinking,  "  What  a  poor  figure  is  Cousin  Mad  be- 
side these  men  whose  faces  are  so  full  of  intelligence  !  " 

Mrs.  Whately  was  the  perfection  of  dignified  courtesy,  but 
quickly  excused  herself  and  niece  on  the  plea  of  hastening 
preparations.  She  was  one  who  could  not  extend  even  en- 
forced hospitality  bereft  of  its  grace,  and  she  also  explained 
to  Miss  Lou,  "  We  had  much  better  gain  their  good-will 
than  their  ill-will." 

"  Well,  auntie,  we  must  admit  that  the  Yankees  have  not 
acted  like  monsters  yet." 

The  lady  bit  her  lip,  but  said  after  a  moment,  "  I  sup- 
pose gentlemen  are  much  the  same  the  world  over.  Thus 
far  it  has  been  our  good  fortune  to  have  met  with  such  only. 
There  is  another  class,  however,  from  which  God  defend 


176  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Lieutenant  Scoville  admitted  that,  himself.  So  there 
is  on  our  side  —  men  like  Perkins." 

"  No,  I  mean  Yankee  officers  who  have  at  least  permitted 
the  worst  wrongs  in  many  parts  of  our  unhappy  land." 

"Well,"  thought  Miss  Lou,  as  she  helped  Zany  set  the 
table,  "  after  my  experience  I  shall  believe  what  I  see. 
What's  more,  I  mean  to  see  the  world  before  I  die  and 
judge  of  every  thing  for  myself.  Now  if  the  general  on  our 
side,  with  his  staff,  will  only  come  to  supper,  I  shall  get  quite 
an  education  in  one  day." 

Mrs.  Baron  retired  to  her  room  and  would  have  nothing 
whatever  to  do  with  her  present  guests,  but  Aun'  Suke  did 
not  need  her  orders  now,  nor  did  any  of  her  assistants. 

Chunk  had  again  returned  to  his  haunts  and  had  made 
havoc  in  the  poultry  yard.  Now  he  worked  like  a  beaver, 
meantime  enjoining  Aun'  Suke  "  ter  sabe  de  plumpest 
chicken  ob  de  lot  fer  my  Boss.  Marse  Scoville  brung  'em 
all  yere,  you  knows.  Hi !  but  we  uns  had  ter  git  out  sud'n 
dough  dis  mawnin'." 

"  Does  you  tink  de  Linkum  men  git  druv  off  agin  ?  " 

"  How  you  talks  !  Aun'  Suke.  Hi !  Druv  off !  Why,  de 
ridge  des  black  wid  um  —  anuff  ter  eat  Mad  Whately  en  all 
he  men  alibe.  Dey  des  ridin'  troo  de  kintry  freein'  we 
uns." 

"  Well,  I  hopes  I  kin  stay  free  till  night,  anyhow,"  said 
Aun'  Suke,  pausing  in  her  work  to  make  a  dab  at  a  little 
darky  with  her  wooden  spoon  sceptre.  Firs'  Marse  Scoville 
whirl  in  en  say  I  free  ;  den  old  miss  whirl  in  en  say  I  ain' ; 
now  comes  de  gin'ral  ob  de  hull  lot  en  I'se  free  agin.  Wats 
mo',  de  freer  I  git  de  harder  I  has  ter  wuk.  My  haid  gwine 
roun'  lak  dat  ar  brass  rewster  on  de  barn,  wen'  de  win'  blow 
norf  en  souf  ter  oncet." 

"  No  mattah  'bout  yo'  haid,  Aun'  Suke.  Dat  ain'  no 
'count.     Hit's  yo'  han's  dat  de  gin'ral  want  busy." 


SCOVILLE'S  HOPE.  1 77 

"  No  mattah  'bout  my  haid,  eh?  Tek  dat  on  yo'n  den," 
and  she  cracked  Chunk's  skull  sharply. 

"  Dat's  right,  Aun'  Suke,  keep  de  flies  away,"  remarked 
Chunk  quietly.  "  You  git  all  de  freedom  you  wants  ef  you 
does  ez  I  sez." 

"  Mo'n  I  wants  ef  I've  got  ter  min'  ev'ybody,  eben  dem 
w'at's  neber  growed  up." 

"  I  des  step  ter  de  gin'ral  en  say  you  hab  dejections  'bout 
cookin'  he  dinner.  Den  I  tell  'im  ter  order  out  a  char'ot 
ter  tek  you  ter  glory." 

"  G'lang !  imperdence,"  said  Aun'  Suke,  resuming  her 
duties. 

"  La  !  Aun'  Suke,"  spoke  up  Zany,  who  had  been  listening 
for  a  moment,  "  doan  yer  know  Chunk  de  boss  ob  de  hull 
bizness?  He  des  pickin'  chickens  now  ter  let  de  gen'ral 
res'  a  while.  Bimeby  he  git  on  he  hoss  en  lead  de  hull 
Linkum  army  wid  yo'  wooden  spoon." 

Chunk  started  for  her,  but  the  fleet-footed  girl  was  soon 
back  in  the  dining-room. 

When  the  early  dinner  was  almost  ready  Mr.  Baron  said 
to  his  sister, 

"  Surely,  there's  no  reason  why  you  and  Louise  should 
appear." 

"  Very  good  reason,  brother.  I  shall  make  these  Northern 
officers  feel  that  they  have  eaten  salt  with  us  and  so  are 
bound  to  give  us  their  protection.  Moreover,  I  wish  to  gain 
every  particle  of  information  that  I  can.  It  may  be  useful 
to  our  general  when  he  appears.  Bring  out  your  wine  and 
brandy,  for  they  loosen  tongues." 

It  soon  became  evident,  however,  that  General  Marston 
and  his  staff  felt  in  no  need  of  Dutch  courage,  and  were  too 
plainly  aware  of  their  situation  to  confuse  their  minds  with 
their  host's  liquor  even  if  they  were  so  inclined.  The  gen- 
eral  was   serious,   somewhat   preoccupied,   but    courteous, 


178  "MISS  LOU." 

especially  to  Miss  Lou,  on  whom  his  eyes  often  rested  kindly. 
At  last  he  said, 

"  I  have  a  little  girl  at  home  about  your  age  and  with  your 
blue  eyes.     I'd  give  a  good  deal  to  see  her  to-day." 

"  I  think,  sir,  you  are  glad  that  she  is  not  where  I  am  to- 
day," Miss  Lou  ventured  to  answer. 

"  Yes,  that's  true.  I  hope  no  harm  will  come  to  you,  my 
child,  nor  will  there  if  we  can  help  it.  I  know  what  claims 
you  have  upon  us  and  would  be  proud  indeed  if  my  daughter 
Would  behave  as  you  have  in  like  circumstances.  I  have 
travelled  the  world  over,  Mrs.  Whately,  and  have  never  seen 
the  equal  of  the  unperverted  American  girl." 

"  I  certainly  believe  that  true  of  Southern  girls,  general," 
was  the  matron's  reply,  although  she  flushed  under  a  con- 
sciousness of  all  that  Scoville  might  have  reported. 

"  Pardon  me,  madam,  but  you  are  in  danger  of  perverting 
the  minds  of  Southern  girls  with  prejudice,  a  noble  kind  of 
prejudice,  I  admit,  because  so  closely  allied  with  what  they 
regard  as  patriotism,  but  narrow  and  narrowing  nevertheless. 
That  old  flag  yonder  means  one  people,  one  broad  country, 
and  all  equally  free  under  the  law  to  think  and  act." 

"  Do  you  intend  to  remain  in  this  country  and  hold  it  in 
subjection?"  Mrs.  Whately  asked  in  smiling  keenness. 

"  We  intend  to  give  the  Southern  people  every  chance  to 
become  loyal,  madam,  and  for  one  I  rest  confidently  in  their 
intelligence  and  sober  second  thoughts.  They  have  fought 
bravely  for  their  ideas,  but  will  be  defeated.  The  end  is 
drawing  near,  I  think." 

"  Well,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Baron  grimly,  "  I  am  sorry  you  are 
preparing  for  some  more  bloody  arguments  about  our  very 
ears." 

"  I  am  also,  on  account  of  these  ladies ;  in  other  respects, 
I  am  not.  By  night  there  may  be  many  wounded  and  dying 
men.     It  will  be  well  for  them  that  they  do  not  fall  in  a  wild 


SCOVILLE'S  HOPE.  1 79 

and  desolate  region  like  some  that  we  have  passed  through. 
As  you  say,  sir,  war  is  an  argument,  a  heated  one  at  times. 
But  a  wounded  man  is  an  appeal  to  all  kindly  humanity. 
You  would  nurse  me  a  little,  Miss  Baron,  if  I  were  brought 
in  wounded,  would  you  not?" 

"  Yes,  sir,  I  would,  because  I  feel  what  you  say  about  a 
wounded  man  is  true." 

"  Oh,  I  know  that,"  he  replied  with  a  very  kindly  smile. 
"  I  hope  to  tell  my  little  girl  about  you."  Suddenly  he  be- 
came grave  again  and  said,  "  Mr.  Baron,  you  are  somewhat 
isolated  here,  and  may  not  be  so  well  informed  as  I  am. 
However  the  prospective  conflict  may  turn,  I  cannot  remain 
in  this  region.  Many  of  our  wounded  may  be  left.  Do 
not  delude  yourself,  sir,  nor,  if  you  can  help  it,  permit  your 
friends  to  be  deluded  by  the  belief,  or  even  hope,  that  our 
forces  will  not  soon  control  this  and  all  other  parts  of  the 
land.  While  I  trust  that  humanity  will  lead  to  every  effort 
to  assuage  suffering  and  save  life,  I  must  also  warn  you  that 
strict  inquisition  will  soon  be  made.  There  is  nothing  that 
we  resent  more  bitterly  than  wrongs  to  or  neglect  of  such  of 
our  wounded  as  must  be  left  behind." 

"  It  would  seem,  sir,  that  you  hold  me  responsible  for 
evils  which  I  cannot  prevent." 

"  No,  sir.  I  only  suggest  that  you  employ  your  whole 
influence  and  power  to  avert  future  evils.  I  am  offering  a 
word  to  the  wise,  I  trust.     Ah,  Scoville,  you  have  news?  " 

"  Yes,  sir,  important,"  said  that  officer,  standing  dusty 
and  begrimed  at  the  doorway. 

"  Is  there  haste  ?  Is  your  information  for  my  ear  only  ? 
I'm  nearly  through." 

"  Plenty  of  time  for  dinner,  sir.  No  harm  can  now  come 
from  hearing  at  once  what  I  have  to  say." 

"  Go  ahead,  then.     I'd  like  my  staff  to  know." 

"  Well,  sir,  having  got  the  enemy  on   the  run,  we  kept 


l8o  "MISS  LOU." 

them  going  so  they  could  not  mask  what  was  behind  them. 
There's  a  large  force  coming  up." 

"As  large  as  ours?" 

"I  think  so.  I  gained  an  eminence  from  which  I  ob- 
tained a  good  view.  Major  Jones  told  me  to  say  that  he 
would  skirmish  with  the  advance,  delay  it,  and  send  word 
from  time  to  time." 

"  All  right.     Get  some  dinner,  then  report  to  me." 

"Yes,  sir;"  and  Scoville  saluted  and  departed  without  a 
glance  at  any  one  except  his  commander. 

"What  do  you  think  of  my  scout,  Miss  Baron?"  asked 
the  general  with  a  humorous  twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

"  He  proved  himself  a  gentleman  last  evening,  sir,  and 
now  I  should  think  he  was  proving  a  very  good  soldier, 
much  too  good  for  our  interests." 

"  You  are  mistaken  about  your  interests.  Don't  you 
think  he  was  rather  rude  in  not  acknowledging  your 
presence  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  much  about  military  matters,  but  I  reckon 
he  thought  he  was  on  duty." 

The  general  laughed.  "Well,"  he  remarked,  "it  does 
not  seem  to  be  age  that  makes  us  wise  so  much  as  eyes  that 
see  and  a  brain  back  of  them.  Scoville  is  a  gentleman 
and  a  good  soldier.  He  is  also  unusually  well  educated  and 
thoughtful  for  his  years.  You  are  right,  my  dear.  Pardon 
me,  but  you  keep  reminding  me  of  my  daughter,  and  I 
like  to  think  of  all  that's  good  and  gentle  before  a 
battle." 

"  I  wish  I  could  meet  her,"  said  Miss  Lou  simply. 

"  Come  and  visit  her  after  the  war,  then,"  said  the  general 
cordially.  "  The  hope  of  the  country  is  in  the  young  people, 
who  are  capable  of  receiving  new  and  large  ideas."  Having 
made  his  acknowledgments  to  Mr.  Baron  and  Mrs.  Whately, 
he  repaired  to  the  veranda  and  lighted  a  cigar.    The  staff- 


SCOVILLE'S  HOPE.  l8l 

officers,  who  had  tried  to  make  themselves  agreeable  on 
general  principles,  also  retired. 

Miss  Lou's  cheeks  were  burning  with  an  excitement  even 
greater  than  that  which  the  conflicts  witnessed  had  inspired 
—  the  excitement  of  listening  to  voices  from  the  great  un- 
known world.  "  These  courteous  gentlemen,"  she  thought, 
"  this  dignified  general  who  invites  me  to  visit  his  daughter, 
are  the  vandals  against  whom  I  have  been  warned.  They 
have  not  only  treated  me  like  a  lady,  but  have  made  me  feel 
that  I  was  one,  yet  to  escape  them  I  was  to  become  the 
slave  of  a  spoiled,  passionate  boy  !  " 

Mrs.  Whately  guessed  much  that  was  passing  in  her  mind, 
and  sighed  deeply. 

At  the  veranda  steps  stood  Uncle  Lusthah,  hat  in  hand  and 
heading  a  delegation  from  the  quarters.  The  general  said, 
"Wait  a  moment,"  then  despatched  one  of  his  staff  to  the 
ridge  with  orders.     "  Now,  my  man." 

Uncle  Lusthah  bowed  profoundly  and  began,  "  De  young 
Linkum  ossifer  said,  las'  night,  how  you  tell  us  mo'  dis  mawn- 
in'  'bout  our  freedom." 

"You  are  free.  Mr.  Lincoln's  proclamation  makes  you 
all  free." 

"Kin  we  uns  go  'long  wid  you,  mars'r?  Folks  des  seem 
kiner  deef  'bout  dat  ar  prockermation  in  dese  parts." 

"  No,  my  man,  you  can't  go  with  us.  We  are  marching 
much  too  rapidly  for  you  to  keep  up.  Stay  here  where  you 
are  known.  Make  terms  with  your  master  for  wages  or 
share  in  the  crops.  If  it  is  necessary,  the  people  about  here 
will  probably  soon  again  hear  the  proclamation  from  our 
cannon.  Mr.  Baron,  why  don't  you  gain  the  good-will  of 
those  people  and  secure  their  co-operation  ?  They  will  be 
worth  more  to  you  as  freemen,  and  they  are  free.  I  give  you 
friendly  advice.  Accept  what  you  can't  help.  Adapt  your- 
selves to  the  new  order  of  things.     Any  other  course  will  be 


1 82  "jur/ss  lou." 

just  as  futile  as  to  resolve  solemnly  that  you  will  have  noth- 
ing to  do  with  steam,  but  travel  as  they  did  in  Abraham's 
time." 

Miss  Lou  looked  at  her  uncle  curiously  to  see  how  he 
would  take  this  advice.  His  coldness  of  manner  and  silence 
told  how  utterly  lost  upon  him  it  was.  The  general  looked 
at  him  a  moment,  and  then  said  gravely,  "  Mr.  Baron,  such 
men  as  you  are  the  enemies  of  your  section,  not  such  men 
as  I.  Good-morning,  sir.  Good-by,  my  child.  Heaven 
bless  and  protect  you ! "  With  a  stately  bow  to  Mrs. 
Whately  he  departed  and  was  soon  on  the  ridge  again  with 
his  men. 

"  I  wonder  if  Abraham  and  the  Patriarchs  would  have 
been  any  more  ready  for  the  new  order  of  things  than 
uncle?"  Miss  Lou  thought  as  she  went  to  find  Scoville. 

"  He  down  at  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin.  Chunk  took  he  dinner 
dar,"  Zany  whispered. 

"  He  des  step  ter  de  run  ter  wash  he  han's  en  face,"  said 
Aun'  Jinkey  a  little  later. 

Passing  some  screening  shrubbery,  the  girl  saw  him  stand- 
ing on  the  spot  from  which  he  had  been  carried  insensible 
by  her  directions  so  brief  a  time  before.  "  Your  dinner  is 
ready,"  she  called. 

He  came  to  her  quickly  and  said,  "  I've  been  trying  to 
realize  all  that  has  happened  since  I  fell  at  your  feet  yonder." 

"  Far  more  has  happened  to  me  than  to  you,"  she  replied. 
"  It  seems  years  since  then,  I've  seen  and  learned  so  much." 

"  I  wish  to  ask  you  something,"  he  said  earnestly.  "  That 
scamp,  Perkins,  fired  on  me  at  close  range.  You  stood  just 
over  him  and  I  heard  what  you  said.  How  happened  it 
that  his  bullet  flew  so  wide  of  the  mark?" 

She  began  laughing  as  she  asked,  "  Have  you  never  heard 
that  there  was  luck  in  throwing  an  old  shoe  ?  I  hit  Perkins 
over  the  eyes  with  one  of  mine." 


SCOVILLE'S  HOFE.  1 83 

"  Took  it  off  and  fired  it  while  he  was  trying  to  shoot 
me?" 

"Yes." 

He  seized  both  her  hands  and  asked,  "  What  will  you  take 
for  that  shoe?" 

"  What  a  Yankee  you  are  to  ask  such  a  question  !  It 
wasn't  a  shoe ;  it  was  a  slipper." 

"  Have  you  it  on  now?  " 

"  Yes.     What  should  you  want  of  it?  " 

"  I  want  to  wear  it  next  my  heart.  Which  one  was  it  ? 
Let  me  see  it." 

"  No ;  it's  old.  I  haven't  any  other,  and  I  shall  wear  it 
on  my  right  foot  as  long  as  it  lasts." 

"  Please  let  me  see  it  and  take  it  in  my  hands  just  a 
moment.  I  may  never  have  a  chance  to  ask  another  favor 
of  you." 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  will.  You  are  coming  to  see  us,  and  the 
general  has  asked  me  to  visit  his  daughter  after  the  war  is 
over.     Do  you  think  he'll  remember  it?  " 

"  The  slipper,  please." 

"  How  can  you  ask  so  absurd  a  thing?  "  and  a  dainty  foot 
was  put  out  a  brief  instant  before  him. 

"  O  you  little  Cinderella  !  I  wish  I  was  the  Prince."  He 
saw  something  like  a  frown  gathering  on  her  face.  "Don't 
look  that  way,"  he  resumed,  "  I  want  to  tell  you  something 
I've  read.  I  don't  remember  the  words,  but  the  gist  is  that 
a  woman  never  forgets  a  man  on  whom  she  has  bestowed  a 
great  kindness.  Already  I  have  twice  owed  my  life  to  you. 
You  can't  forget  me.  My  hope  is  in  what  you  have  done 
for  me,  not  what  I  can  do  for  you.  I  can  think  of  myself 
lying  dead  in  front  of  the  house,  I  know  I  am  standing  here 
looking  into  your  true,  sweet  eyes.  Let  me  look  into  them 
a  moment,  for  I  have  no  sister,  no  mother,  no  one  in  the 
world  that  I  care  for  like  you.     Do  not  think  I  am  making 


1 84  "MISS  LOU." 

love.  I  may  be  dead  yet  before  night.  But  whether  I  live 
or  die  I  want  you  to  remember  that  there  is  one  human  soul 
that  always  wishes  you  well  for  your  own  sake,  that  is  wholly 
and  unselfishly  devoted  to  your  interests  and  happiness." 

"There,  I'm  beginning  to  cry,  and  your  dinner's  getting 
cold.     You  must  stop  talking  so." 

"  Give  me  something  to  carry  into  battle  this  afternoon." 

She  stooped  and  gathered  some  wild  violets.  "  There," 
she  said. 

"You  could  not  have  chosen  better.  Whenever  I  see 
violets  hereafter  they  shall  be  your  eyes  looking  at  me  as 
you  are  looking  now." 

"  And  —  well  —  you  can  remember  that  there  is  always  a 
little  friend  in  the  South  who  does  care.  That's  a  curious 
thought  about  a  woman's  caring  for  those  she  has — I 
don't  believe  a  woman  can  care  for  any  one  and  not  try  to 
do  something  for  him.  Let  us  just  think  of  ourselves  as 
friends.  It  seems  to  me  that  I  never  want  to  think  any 
other  way.  Now  you  must  get  your  dinner.  You  may  be 
summoned  hastily  and  have  no  other  chance  to-day.  After 
Uncle  Lusthah's  words  last  night  I'm  not  going  to  have  any 
forebodings." 

"  Won't  you  let  me  call  you  Miss  Lou  once  before  I  go  ?  " 

"Why  not?" 

"  Well,  then,  Miss  Lou,  look  in  my  eyes  once  more  and 
remember  what  you  see  there.     I  won't  say  a  word." 

She  raised  hers  shyly  to  his,  blushed  deeply  and  turned 
away,  shaking  her  head.  The  power  to  divine  what  she  saw 
was  born  with  her. 

"  Yes,  I  understand  you,"  he  said  very  gently,  "  but  you 
can't  help  it,  any  more  than  the  sun's  shining.  Some  day 
your  heart  may  be  cold  and  sad,  and  the  memory  of  what 
you  have  just  seen  may  warm  and  cheer  it.  Miss  Lou,  you 
brave,  noble  little  child-woman,  didn't  you  see  that  my  love 


SCOVILLE'S  HOPE.  1 85 

was  your  servant  —  that  it  merely  gives  you  power  over  me  ? 
Even  as  my  wife  you  would  be  as  free  as  I  would  be.  Now 
good-by.  We  part  here  and  not  before  others.  Chunk  is 
yonder  with  my  horse.  Be  just  as  happy  as  you  can  whether, 
we  ever  meet  again  or  not." 

"  Then  —  then  —  if  you  don't  come  again?  "  she  faltered. 

"  I  shall  be  dead,  but  don't  believe  this  too  hastily." 

"You've  been  kind,"  she  burst  out  passionately,  "you've 
treated  me  with  respect,  as  if  I  had  a  right  to  myself.  You 
have  saved  me  from  what  I  dreaded  far  worse  than  death. 
You  shall  not  go  away,  perhaps  to  die,  without  —  without  — 
without  —  oh,  think  of  me  only  as  a  grateful  child  whose 
life  you've  kept  from  being  spoiled." 

"  I  shall  not  go  away  without  —  what?"  he  asked  eagerly. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know.  What  shall  I  say  ?  My  heart  aches 
as  if  it  would  break  at  the  thought  of  any  thing  happening 
to  you."  She  dropped  on  the  grass  and,  burying  her  face 
in  her  hands,  sobbed  aloud. 

He  knelt  beside  her  and  sought  to  take  one  of  her 
hands. 

Suddenly  she  hid  her  face  against  his  breast  for  a  moment 
and  faltered,  "  Love  me  as  a  child  now  and  leave  me." 

"  You  have  given  me  my  orders,  little  girl,  and  they  would 
be  obeyed  as  far  as  you  could  see  were  I  with  you  every 
day." 

"  Lieutenant  Scoville  ! "  shouted  the  distant  voice  of  an 
orderly.  He  hastily  kissed  away  the  tears  in  her  eyes, 
exclaiming,  "Never  doubt  my  return,  if  living,"  and  was 
gone. 

In  a  moment  he  had  passed  through  the  shrubbery. 
Before  she  had  regained  self-control  and  followed  he  was 
speeding  his  horse  towards  the  ridge.  "  There,  he  has  gone 
without  his  dinner,"  she  said  in  strong  self-reproach,  hasten- 
ing to  the  cabin.     Chunk,  who  was  stuffing  a  chicken  and 


1 86  "M/SS  LOU.n 

corn-bread  into  a  haversack,  reassured  her.  "Doan  you 
worry,  Miss  Lou,"  he  said.  "  Dis  yere  chicken  gwine  ter 
foller  'im  right  slam  troo  ebery  ting  till  hit  cotch  up,"  and 
he  galloped  after  his  new  "  boss  "  in  a  way  to  make  good  his 
words. 


TWO  STORMS.  187 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

TWO   STORMS. 

MISS  LOU  sunk  wearily  on  the  door-step  of  Aun' 
Jinkey's  cabin  where  the  reader  first  made  her  ac- 
quaintance. She  drew  a  long  sigh.  "  Oh,  I  must  rest  and 
get  my  breath.     So  much  is  happening  ! " 

"  You  po'  chile  !  "  was  the  sympathetic  response.  "  Ah 
well,  honey,  de  good  Lawd  watchin'  ober  you.  I  year  how 
dat  ole  snake-in-de-grass  Perkins  git  out  Miss  Whately's 
keridge  en  tink  he  gwine  ter  tote  you  off  nobody  know 
whar.  You  passin'  troo  de  Red  Sea  long  o'  us,  honey.  I 
yeared  how  you  say  you  doan  wanter  lebe  yo'  ole  mammy. 
I  ain'  cried  so  sence  I  wus  a  baby  w'en  I  yeared  dat.  Doan 
you  reckermember,  honey?  You  sot  right  dar  en  wish 
suinp'n  ter  hap'n.  I  'spects  we  bettah  be  keerful  how  we 
wishes  fer  tings.  Doan  you  min'  de  time  Uncle  Lusthah 
pray  fer  rain  en  we  wus  all  nigh  drownded?  " 

"  I'm  not  sorry,  mammy,  things  happened,  for  my  heart's 
been  warmed,  warmed  as  never  before.  Oh,  it's  so  sweet  to 
know  that  one  is  cared  for ;  it  is  so  sweet  to  have  somebody 
look  you  in  the  eyes  and  say,  "  I  want  you  to  be  happy  in 
your  own  way." 

"  Did  Marse  Scoville  say  dat?  " 

The  girl  nodded. 

"  I'se  hab  ter  smoke  on  dat  ar  lil  whiles." 

Both  were  lost  in  thought  for  a  time,  Miss  Lou's  eyes 
looking  dreamily  out  through  the  pines  and  oaks  as  they 


1 88  "MISS  LOU." 

had  before  when  vaguely  longing  that  the  stagnation  of  her 
life  might  cease.  All  had  become  strangely  still ;  not  a 
soldier  was  in  sight ;  even  the  birds  were  quiet  in  the  sultri- 
ness of  the  early  afternoon.  "Isn't  it  all  a  dream?"  the 
girl  asked  suddenly. 

"  Kin'  ob  wish  we  could  wake  up  den,  if  it  is.  See  yere, 
Miss  Lou,  you  on'y  a  lil  chile  arter  all.  Doan  you  see 
Marse  Scoville  des  tekin'  a  longer  way  roun'  de  bush  ?  Wen 
he  tell  you  he  want  you  ter  be  happy  he  mean  he  want  you 
hissef ! " 

"  Oh,  yes,  Aun'  Jinkey,  that  was  plain  enough ;  but  do  you 
know  how  he  would  take  me  and  when?  " 

"  Dat's  des  w'at  I  lak  ter  know,  fer  I  tells  you,  chile,  dis 
mar'in'  business  orful  serus." 

"  He  would  take  me  only  when  I  went  to  him  of  my  own 
free  will  and  not  before.  I  feel  just  as  safe  with  him  as  with 
you.  I  believe  he  would  do  what  I  asked  just  as  he  minds 
that  general  of  his.  That's  the  wonderful  part  of  it,  which 
almost  takes  away  my  breath.  Why,  only  the  other  day 
uncle  and  aunt  were  ordering  me  about  as  they  always  have, 
and  now  here's  a  brave,  educated  man  ready  to  do  my 
bidding.  What  a  goose  Cousin  Mad  was  !  If  he  had  acted 
that  way  I  shouldn't  have  known  any  better  I  fear  than  to 
marry  him.  I  was  so  starved  for  a  little  consideration  and 
kindness,  that  if  he'd  been  generous  and  made  me  feel  that 
he  cared  for  me  and  not  for  himself  all  the  time,  I  fear  I'd 
have  just  married  him  out  of  gratitude.  I  would  have  acted 
like  an  impulsive,  ignorant  child,  blind  to  every  thing  except 
that  some  one  cared  for  me.  But  that's  all  past  now.  My 
eyes  have  been  opened  and  I've  been  compelled  to  think 
and  foresee  the  future.  Dreary  enough  it  would  have  been 
with  him." 

"  What  you  gwine  ter  do,  honey  ?  " 

"  Stand  on  my  rights.    See  how  much  I've  learned  in  a 


TWO  STORMS.  189 

few  short  days,  yes,  even  hours.  I've  learned  above  all 
things  that  my  life's  my  own.  There  were  my  relatives,  who 
would  reach  out  and  take  it,  just  as  they  would  a  ripe  fig 
from  a  tree,  with  just  about  as  much  consideration  for  me  as 
for  the  fig.  Thank  God  !  I  have  been  shown  clearly  my 
right  to  my  own  life.  Since  I  have  learned  so  much  in  a 
few  days,  I  shall  keep  my  freedom  and  choose  that  which  is 
best  for  me  as  well  as  best  for  others." 

"  Now  honey,  you  on  de  right  track,  sho  !  Des  you 
wait  en  lis'n.  Mo'  folks  dan  Marse  Scoville  wanter  talk 
wid  you  on  dis  mar'age  question.  You  on'y  lil  chile  yit. 
Des  you  keep  yosef  deserved-like  en  say  yo'  motif  ain' 
waterin'  fer  enybody.  Marse  Scoville  berry  nice  gem'lin, 
but  he  yere  to-day  en  like  anuff  a  orful  way  yander  ter- 
morrer  "  — 

"  No  matter  where  he  is,  Aun'  Jinkey,  he  will  carry  the 
love  I  could  give  to  a  kind  brother  if  I  had  one.  He  knows 
I  can  do  no  more  and  he  does  not  ask  more." 

"  Yes,  he  does,  honey ;  he  ax  hit  in  de  bes  way  ter  git  hit 
fum  you.  He  ain'  de  fool  ter  grab  at  hit,  but  he  tek  hit  all 
de  same." 

"  Well,"  she  answered  judicially,  "  I  don't  see  how  a  girl 
can  help  it  if  a  man  thinks  more  of  her  than  she  of  him,  but 
it  does  make  all  the  difference  in  the  world  whether  a  man 
tries  to  grab,  as  you  say,  or  waits  respectfully  for  what  should 
be  a  free  gift,  to  be  worth  any  thing.  How  strange  it  seems 
to  be  talking  quietly  of  such  things  !  Think  of  what  has 
happened,  what  might  have  happened,  and  what  may  take 
place  before  night !  " 

"  Well,  honey,  hit's  a  good  ting  ter  stop  tinkin'  or  ter  tink 
slow  sometimes.  We  couldn't  keep  a  gwine  as  we  wus. 
Our  haids  ud  whirl  right  off  our  shol'ers.  Hit's  all  so  peace- 
ful now,  why  doan  you  go  ter  yo'  room  en  tek  a  nap.  Mebbe 
you  git  berry  lil  sleep  ter-night." 


190  "MISS  LOU." 

"  I  reckon  your  advice  is  good,  mammy.  If  you  have 
trouble,  come  to  me." 

As  she  walked  through  the  garden  and  shrubbery  to  the 
mansion  she  felt  that  she  was  reacting  from  the  strong 
excitements  of  the  morning  into  languor  and  excessive 
weariness.  The  idle  negroes  had  partially  succumbed  to 
the  heat  and  quiet,  and  were  generally  dozing  in  the  sun, 
even  on  this  eventful  day.  Perkins,  the  exacting  overseer, 
had  disappeared  on  the  first  alarm  of  Scoville's  charge  and 
had  not  been  seen  since.  When  entering  the  house  Zany, 
who  always  seemed  on  the  qui  vive,  told  her  that  her  aunts 
were  in  their  rooms  and  that  Mr.  Baron  was  in  his  office. 
Going  out  on  the  veranda,  the  girl  saw  two  or  three  vigilant 
Union  videttes  under  a  tree.  It  was  evident  that  they  had 
chosen  a  point  which  commanded  a  good  view  of  the  house, 
out-buildings  and  quarters.  The  ridge  was  still  lined  with 
troops,  but  they  appeared  to  be  scattered  about  at  their 
ease  on  the  ground.  The  girl's  eyes  drooped ;  she  wearily 
climbed  to  her  room  and  was  soon  asleep. 

Many  others  slept  also  who  would  sleep  again  that  night 
in  the  stillness  of  death ;  others  who  would  groan  through 
coming  days  and  nights  in  anguished  wakefulness.  The 
temporary  quiet  did  not  deceive  the  resting  soldiers  on 
either  side.  They  well  knew  that  the  active  brains  of  their 
superiors  were  at  work.  Scoville  found  unexpected  duty. 
He  was  given  a  score  of  men,  with  orders  to  scour  the  roads 
to  the  eastward,  so  that,  if  best,  his  general  could  retire 
rapidly  and  in  assured  safety  towards  the  objective  point 
where  he  was  to  unite  with  a  larger  force.  Instead  of  rest- 
ing, the  young  man  was  studying  topography  and  enjoying 
the  chicken  which  had  at  last  caught  up  with  him.  He  knew 
the  importance  of  his  work  and  did  it  thoroughly.  Having 
chosen  the  road  which  promised  best,  he  marked  it  on  a 
map,  expecting  soon  to  go  over  it  again  as  guide.     He 


TWO  STORMS.  191 

sighed  deeply  as  he  thought  that  it  would  lead  away  from 
the  girl  to  whom  he  had  devoted  his  life,  yet  not  because  he 
owed  it  to  her.  "  If  we  could  only  remain  together,"  he 
thought,  "she  would  learn  to  give  all  that  I  give.  The 
dear  little  girl  is  just  learning  that  she  is  a  woman,  and  is 
bewildered." 

Major  Jones,  who  had  been  skirmishing  to  delay  the 
Confederate  advance,  allowed  his  men  and  horses  to  rest 
when  the  enemy  paused  for  their  mid-day  bivouac,  and  so 
had  come  about  a  cessation  of  hostilities  during  which  both 
parties  took  breath  for  the  coming  struggle. 

Miss  Lou  was  suddenly  awakened  by  a  jar  which  shook 
the  house,  followed  by  a  strange,  unearthly  sound.  For  an 
instant  she  was  confused,  thinking  night  had  come,  so  dark 
was  her  room.  Springing  to  her  window  she  threw  open 
the  blinds.  A  black,  threatening  sky  met  her  gaze,  the 
sunlight  hidden  by  a  dense  bank  of  clouds,  above  which 
towered  golden-tipped  thunder-heads.  The  appearance  of 
the  ridge  puzzled  her.  The  cannon  were  there,  a  puff  of 
smoke  rolled  heavily  from  one  of  them ;  but  excepting  a 
few  gunners  just  about  the  pieces,  the  long  line  of  men  and 
horses  had  largely  disappeared.  Down  the  lawn  from  a 
point  not  far  from  the  house  to  the  main  street  and  beyond 
was  a  line  of  horsemen,  keeping  abreast  and  equi-distant 
from  each  other.  What  did  it  all  mean  ?  Facing  the  ridge 
on  the  left  of  the  lawn  was  an  extensive  grove,  through 
which  the  avenue  wound  in  and  out,  and  the  line  of  horse- 
men was  approaching  this.  Suddenly  the  very  earth  trembled 
and  she  saw  smoke  pouring  upward  amongst  the  trees  from 
a  rise  of  ground  within  the  grove.  All  now  became  clear  to 
her.  While  she  had  slept,  the  Confederates  had  come  up, 
taken  their  position  and  the  battle  was  beginning.  In 
strong  excitement  she  rushed  down  to  the  hall  below,  where 
she  found  her  aunts  with  pallid,  frightened  faces.     On  the 


192  "MISS  LOU." 

veranda  was  Mr.  Baron,  looking  white  indeed,  but  with 
firm,  compressed  lips  and  fiery  eyes,  watching  the  opening 
conflict. 

"  Go  in,"  he  said  sternly,  "  this  is  no  place  for  you." 

In  her  intense  absorption  she  did  not  even  hear  him. 
From  the  edge  of  the  grove  and  along  the  avenue  were  now 
seen  little  puffs  of  smoke,  followed  by  the  sharp  crack  of 
carbines.  The  long  line  of  Union  skirmishers  began  to  reply 
in  like  manner,  but  it  was  evident  that  they  found  them- 
selves too  obvious  marks  in  the  open.  Here  and  there  men 
fell  from  their  saddles,  and  the  riderless  horses  galloped  away. 
The  notes  of  a  bugle  were  heard  above  the  din,  and  the 
Union  skirmish  line  retired  rapidly  to  the  foot  of  the  ridge. 

Miss  Lou  saw  all  this  only  as  the  eyes  catch,  half-involun- 
tarily,  what  is  passing  before  them.  With  an  awe  almost 
overwhelming,  her  attention  was  absorbed  by  a  phase  of  war 
utterly  unknown  to  her  —  an  artillery  duel.  Two  Confed- 
erate batteries  in  the  grove  had  opened  and  defined  their 
positions.  The  Union  guns  replied,  shot  for  shot,  in  loud 
explosions,  with  answering,  deep-toned  roar.  Above  the 
detonations  were  heard  the  piercing  screams  of  the  shells  as 
they  flew  back  and  forth.  On  the  ridge  they  burst  with  a 
sharp  crack  and  puff*  of  vapor,  with  what  effect  could  only 
be  guessed ;  but  the  missiles  which  shrieked  into  the  grove 
gave  the  impression  of  resistless,  demoniacal  power.  Great 
limbs  and  even  tops  of  trees  fell  crashing  after  them. 
Blending  faintly  with  the  rending  sound  which  followed  were 
screams  and  yells. 

"Well,"  exclaimed  the  girl,  "if  Cousin  Mad  is  there  he 
at  least  is  brave.  It  seems  as  if  my  knees  would  give  way 
under  me." 

Even  as  she  spoke,  a  forked  line  of  light  burned  down- 
ward athwart  the  heavy  rising  clouds.  The  smoke  of  the 
battle  was  lurid  an  instant ;  then  came  a  peal  which  dwarfed 


TWO  STORMS.  193 

the  thunder  of  earthly  artillery.  Strange  to  say,  the  sound 
was  reassuring  to  the  girl ;  it  was  familiar.  "  Ah  ! "  she 
cried,  "  the  voice  of  heaven  is  louder  than  this  din,  and 
heaven  after  all  is  supreme.  This  fiery  battle  will  soon  be 
quenched  and  hot  blood  cooled." 

The  voice  in  the  sky  was  unheeded,  for  entering  the  lawn 
from  the  road,  distant  from  the  mansion  about  an  eighth  of 
a  mile,  was  seen  a  solid  gray  column.  On  it  went  towards 
the  ridge  at  a  sharp  trot.  "  Ah  !  "  groaned  Mr.  Baron,  "  now 
comes  the  tug  of  war." 

The  girl  screamed  and  moaned  as  she  saw  shells  tearing 
their  way  through  this  column,  horses  and  men  rolling  over 
on  the  ground,  puffs  of  smoke  which  rose  revealing  frightful 
gaps ;  but  on  flowed  the  dark  gray  torrent  as  if  propelled  by 
an  invisible,  resistless  force.  Vacancies  made  by  wounds 
and  death  were  closed  almost  instantly.  In  the  strange, 
luminous  twilight  made  by  the  approaching  storm,  the  im- 
petuous advance  was  wonderfully  distinct  in  the  distance, 
like  a  vivid  silhouette. 

As  the  head  of  the  column  drew  near  the  gentle  acclivity, 
it  fairly  seemed  to  crumble.  Grape  shot  was  now  making 
havoc ;  but  for  every  man  and  horse  that  fell,  two  apparently 
came  on  as  from  an  exhaustless  reservoir.  High  above  all 
sounds  now  came  a  yell  which,  once  heard,  can  never  be 
forgotten,  and  the  Confederate  column  deployed  at  a  gallop, 
charging  the  ridge.  The  Union  skirmish  line  had  already 
retired  to  the  right,  while  pouring  over  the  ridge  by  which 
they  had  been  hitherto  concealed,  came  rank  after  rank  of 
men  in  blue,  their  deeper  chest  shouts  blending  with  the 
shriller  cries  of  their  enemies.  Charge  was  being  met  with 
counter  charge.  Cannon  were  silent,  for  now  friends  and 
foes  were  too  near  together.  Even  the  clouds  loomed 
silently,  as  if  in  suspense,  over  the  terrific  shock  of  the 
two  lines  of  approaching  cavalry. 


194  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Awful !  awful !  "  moaned  the  girl. 

"  Oh  !  if  Madison  is  meeting  that  onset !  "  shrieked  Mrs. 
Whately,  beside  herself  with  horror,  yet  compelled  to  look 
by  a  terrible  fascination. 

Just  as  the  two  opposing  forces  dashed  together  a  bolt  of 
lightning  gleamed  over  them,  turning  the  upraised  sabres  for 
an  instant  into  swords  of  fire.  The  crash  of  thunder  fol- 
lowed so  swiftly  that  it  appeared  to  result  from  the  impact 
of  the  two  charging  lines.  An  impression  of  annihilation 
was  given,  but  so  far  was  it  from  being  realized,  that  the 
slope  was  seen  to  be  alive  with  a  struggling,  seething  mass,- 
wavering  back  and  forth,  at  first  downward,  then  stationary, 
then  gradually  upward,  upward,  until  Mr.  Baron  shouted, 
"  Hurrah  !  our  men  are  carrying  the  ridge  ! " 

The  cry  was  scarcely  uttered  before  another  dark  line  of 
horsemen  on  the  far  right  was  seen  galloping  forward  towards 
the  Confederate  flank.  Again  there  was  another  vivid  flash, 
lighting  up  the  scene  with  a  lurid,  momentary  glare.  The 
peal  which  followed  created  the  illusion  of  sounding  this 
new  charge  or  else  to  be  the  thunder  of  the  onset.  It 
turned  the  fortune  of  the  battle  on  the  right,  for  the  Con- 
federates were  seen  to  pause,  and  finally  to  give  back  slowly 
and  stubbornly.  Then  the  advancing  rainfall  began  to  blot 
the  combatants  from  view. 

Suddenly  the  Union  artillery  opened.  It  seemed  to 
the  terrified  spectators  on  the  veranda  as  if  the  shells  were 
shrieking  directly  towards  them,  but  the  iron  bolts  tore  their 
way  through  the  grove,  although  much  nearer  the  house 
than  before.  The  reason  soon  became  apparent.  On  that 
ridge,  and  within  the  gloomy  shadows  of  the  trees,  were 
officers  as  coolly  observant  as  if  playing  a  game  of  chess. 
They  gave  no  more  heed  to  the  terrific  peals  of  thunder 
than  they  would  have  done  to  so  many  Chinese  gongs. 
While  watching  the  attack  upon  his  centre  and  providing 


TWO  STOKMS.  I95 

against  it,  General  Marston  was  also  seeking  to  penetrate, 
by  means  of  a  powerful  glass,  the  mask  of  the  grove,  and  so 
detected  a  concentration  on  his  left.  Instantly  his  guns 
began  to  shell  the  grove  near  the  house,  where  the  assault- 
ing force  was  massing.  His  reserves  were  ordered  forward, 
and  instructions  rapidly  given  to  the  colonel  who  was  to  repel 
the  attack ;  meanwhile  his  field-glass  was  glued  to  his  eyes. 

Soon  he  cried,  "  It  will  be  their  supreme  effort.  We  must 
strike  a  stunning  blow  in  order  to  get  away  in  safety,"  and 
he  sprung  on  his  horse  and  started  the  charge  himself. 

The  men,  adoring  their  leader,  followed  with  stern  resolve 
and  high  enthusiasm.  Scoville,  who  had  returned,  reported 
and  rested  somewhat,  knew  how  critical  was  the  moment. 
He  rode  close  to  the  general,  but  did  not  fall  out  when  the 
wary  commanding  officer  permitted  the  human  bolt  he  had 
launched  to  pass  beyond  him.  He  was  responsible  "for  the 
entire  force,  and  must  do  just  enough  and  no  more.  He 
must  still  keep  his  eyes  on  all  parts  of  the  field  and  his  brain 
ready  to  direct  when  the  result  of  the  charge  was  known. 
More  than  the  military  necessity  of  repelling  the  Confederate 
charge  bursting  from  the  grove  occupied  the  mind  of  Sco- 
ville. It  looked  to  him  as  if  the  fight  would  take  place 
about  the  very  home  of  the  girl  to  whom  his  heart  was  so 
tender,  and  his  impulse  was  to  be  near,  to  protect  and 
defend. 

The  light  was  fading  fast ;  the  fury  of  the  storm,  whose 
preliminary  blasts  were  shaking  the  dwelling,  was  coming  as 
if  an  ally  with  the  galloping  Union  ranks  and  threatening 
the  equally  impetuous  onset  of  the  Confederates.  In  the 
very  van  of  the  Southern  force  a  vivid  flash  of  lightning 
revealed  Mad  Whately,  with  a  sabre  of  flame.  For  once  he 
made  an  heroic  figure.  His  mother  saw  him  and  shrieked 
despairingly,  but  her  voice  was  lost  in  the  wild  uproar  of 
thunder,  yells  and  shouts  of  the  combatants,  the  shock  of 


I96  "MISS  LOU." 

steel  and  crash  of  firearms.  Then  torrents  of  rain,  which 
had  approached  like  a  black  curtain  extending  from  heaven 
to  earth,  hid  the  awful  scene  of  conflict.  It  vanished  like  a 
dream,  and  would  have  seemed  but  a  nightmare  had  not  the 
ominous  sounds  continued. 

Mr.  Baron  broke  the  spell  which  had  fallen  upon  him, 
dragged  his  sister  and  niece  within  the  door,  and  bolted  it 
with  difficulty  against  the  spray-laden  gusts. 


CHUNK'S  QUEST.  1 97 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

chunk's  quest. 

IF  there  had  been  sufficient  light  the  battle  might  have 
continued  in  spite  of  the  tropical  downpour,  but  dark- 
ness became  so  intense  that  friend  and  foe  were  alike  dis- 
guised from  each  other.  At  this  crisis,  Scoville's  horse  was 
shot  and  fell,  dragging  his  rider  down  also.  A  flash  of 
lightning  revealed  this  mishap  to  Mad  Whately,  who  secured 
the  capture  of  the  Union  officer  before  he  could  extricate 
himself. 

By  a  sort  of  mutual  consent  the  contending  forces  drew 
apart.  Prisoners  had  been  taken  on  both  sides,  and  Whately, 
who  had  badly  sprained  his  arm,  unfitting  himself  for  active 
duty,  was  given  charge  of  those  secured  by  the  Confederates. 

General  Marston  withdrew  the  Union  forces  to  the  ridge 
again.  He  was  satisfied  that  prudence  required  rapid  prog- 
ress towards  his  somewhat  distant  destination.  True,  he 
had  severely  checked  his  foes,  but  he  knew  that  they  had 
re-enforcements  near,  while  he  had  not.  He  deeply  regretted 
Scoville's  absence  and  possible  death,  but  he  had  the  map, 
and  the  men  who  had  been  out  with  the  scout  were  ac- 
quainted with  the  selected  road.  Therefore,  as  soon  as  the 
violence  of  the  storm  abated  and  the  moon  shed  a  faint 
radiance  through  the  murky  clouds,  he  renewed  his  march 
as  rapidly  as  the  rain-soaked  ground  permitted.  Fires  were 
lighted  along  the  ridge  to  deceive  the  enemy,  and  a  rear- 
guard left  to  keep  them  burning. 


198  "MISS  LOU." 

The  trembling  household  within  the  mansion  slowly  rallied 
as  the  sounds  of  battle  died  away.  As  soon  as  the  fury  of 
the  conflict  and  storm  decreased,  Mr.  Baron  lighted  a  candle 
and  they  looked  into  one  another's  white  faces. 

Miss  Lou  was  the  first  to  recover  some  intrepidity  of  spirit. 
"  Well,"  she  said,  "  we  are  still  alive,  and  these  torrents  are 
evidently  stopping  the  fighting  as  they  would  put  out  fire." 

*  O  Madison,  Madison  !  "  Mrs.  Whately  moaned, "  are  you 
living,  or  are  you  dead?  If  you  are  dead  it  is  little  to  me 
that  I  am  spared." 

Miss  Lou  did  not  give  very  much  thought  to  her  cousin. 
In  overpowering  solicitude  she  asked  herself,  "  Where  is 
he  whose  eyes  looked  such  strange,  sweet  truth  into  mine 
to-day?  Are  they  unseeing,  not  because  it  is  dark,  but 
because  the  light  of  life  is  quenched?  " 

The  brunt  of  the  storm  soon  passed  and  was  followed  by 
a  drizzling  rain  and  the  promise  of  a  gloomy  night.  As  the 
howling  winds  ceased  their  clamor,  new  blood-curdling 
sounds  smote  the  girl's  ears  —  the  cries  of  wounded  and 
dying  men  and  horses.  Then  the  ghastly  truth,  scarcely 
thought  of  in  the  preceding  excitement,  sickened  her  heart, 
for  she  remembered  that,  scattered  over  the  lawn  and 
within  the  grove,  were  mutilated,  bleeding  forms.  They  were 
all  the  more  vividly  presented  to  her  fancy  because  hidden 
by  the  night. 

But  little  time  elapsed  before  the  activity  of  the  surgeons 
began.  Mr.  Baron  was  summoned  and  told  that  his  piazzas 
and  as  many  rooms  as  possible  must  be  occupied,  and  part 
of  the  wide  hall  fitted  up  with  appliances  for  amputations. 
Every  suitable  place  in  the  out-buildings  was  also  required. 

Mrs.  Baron  almost  shrieked  as  she  heard  this,  seeing  at 
one  mental  glance  the  dwelling  which  it  had  been  her  ruling 
passion  to  maintain  in  immaculate  order,  becoming  blood- 
stained and  muddy  from  top  to  bottom. 


CHUNK'S  QUEST.  1 99 

Mrs.  Whately  asked  only  for  her  son,  and  he  soon 
appeared,  with  the  excitement  of  battle  still  in  his  eyes. 
She  rushed  to  his  arms  and  sobbed  on  his  breast. 

"  Come,  mother,"  he  exclaimed,  "  we've  no  time  for  this 
now.  Please  get  a  sling  for  this  left  arm,  which  aches  hor- 
ribly—  only  a  sprain,  but  right  painful  all  the  same." 

Before  the  agitated  lady  could  recover  herself,  Miss  Lou 
ran  to  her  room  and  returned  with  a  scarf  which  answered 
the  purpose. 

"  Oh,  you  deign  to  do  something  for  me  ? "  he  said 
bitterly. 

"Come,  cousin,"  she  replied,  "since  I  have  not  lost  my 
senses  after  what's  happened  it's  time  you  regained  yours." 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear,"  said  his  mother  fervently,  as  she 
adjusted  the  support  for  the  disabled  arm.  "Yes,  I  trust 
that  we  may  all  regain  our  senses,  and,  if  we  outlive  these 
scenes,  begin  to  act  as  if  we  were  sane." 

"There,  that  will  do,"  he  said  impatiently.  "I  must  go 
now,  for  I  have  important  duties,"  and  he  hastened  away. 

Meantime  General  Marston  had  sent  word  through  his 
picket  line  that  he  would  not  interfere  with  the  care  of  the 
wounded  and  that  the  dwelling  would  not  be  fired  upon  if 
used  as  a  hospital.  He  accompanied  this  assurance  with 
the  offer  of  medical  stores,  coffee,  sugar  and  the  services  of 
two  surgeons.  The  Confederate  general  accepted  the  offer. 
The  trembling  negroes  were  routed  out  of  their  quarters,  and 
compelled  more  or  less  reluctantly  to  help  bring  in  the 
wounded.  Uncle  Lusthah  showed  no  hesitancy  in  the 
humane  work  and  soon  inspired  those  over  whom  he  had 
influence  with  much  of  his  spirit.  It  had  been  a  terribly 
anxious  day  for  him  and  those  about  him.  Hope  had 
ebbed  and  flowed  alternately  until  night,  when  the  day  which 
seemed  to  him  the  dawning  of  the  millennium  ended  as  he 
imagined   the   world   might   end.     Now,  however,  he 


200  "MISS  LOU." 

comforted  in  the  performance  of  good  works,  and  he  breathed 
words  of  Christian  hope  into  more  than  one  dying  ear  that 
night. 

Perkins,  the  overseer,  was  animated  by  a  very  different 
spirit.  At  the  first  alarm  of  Scovillels  return  in  the  morning 
he  had  dashed  into  the  grove,  and  next  concealed  himself 
on  a  distant  eminence  from  which  he  could  watch  events. 
Under  the  cover  of  darkness  he  returned,  and  experienced 
grim  satisfaction  when  he  discovered  the  hated  Union  officer 
among  the  prisoners. 

As  Whately  was  making  his  final  arrangements  for  the 
night,  Perkins  touched  his  arm  saying,  "  Leftenant,  I'll  help 
watch  that  Yankthar"  (pointing  to  Scoville).  "They  say 
he's  ez  slip'ry  ez  a  eel." 

"  Do  so,  Perkins.  We  both  have  a  heavy  score  to  settle 
with  him.  At  daylight  I'll  send  him  where  he  won't  fare  as 
well  as  he  did  on  this  plantation." 

"  Is  your  arm  woun'ed?  " 

"  No,  only  sprained,  but  it  pains  like  the  devil.  Watch 
that  Yank  well.    "I'd  rather  they  all  got  away  than  he." 

"  He'll  never  get  away  alive,"  was  the  ominous  reply. 

As  was  true  after  the  first  skirmish  recorded  in  this  history, 
Mrs.  Whately  now  again  appeared  to  the  best  advantage. 
Relieved  from  overwhelming  anxiety  in  regard  to  her  son, 
her  heart  overflowed  with  pity  for  the  injured.  From  the 
outer  darkness,  limp,  helpless  forms,  in  blood-stained  gar- 
ments, were  borne  in.  Groans  and  half-stifled  cries  began 
to  resound  through  the  house.  Even  Mrs.  Baron  forgot  all 
else  now  but  the  pressing  necessity  of  relieving  pain  and 
saving  life,  but  she  had  eyes  only  for  those  who  wore  the 
gray.  Mrs.  Whately,  on  the  contrary,  made  no  distinction, 
and  many  a  poor  fellow,  in  blue  as  well  as  gray,  blessed  her 
as  she  aided  the  surgeons,  two  of  whom  were  from  the  Union 
lines.    Miss  Lou  remained  chiefly  in  her  own  room   and 


CHUNK'S  QUEST.  201 

i 
busied   herself  preparing   bandages,  sparing   not   her  own 
rather  scanty  store  of  underclothing  in  the  task. 

Mr.  Baron  was  in  the  dining-room,  dispensing,  wines  and 
liquors  to  the  officers  who  were  coming  and  going.  The 
Confederate  general  had  made  the  wide  hearth,  on  which 
roared  an  ample  fire,  his  headquarters  for  the  time,  and  was 
turning  first  one  side  then  the  other  towards  the  blaze,  in 
order  to  dry  his  uniform.  Poor  Aim'  Suke  had  been  threat- 
ened into  renewed  activity,  and  with  many  colored  assist- 
ants had  begun  a  stewing,  baking  and  frying  which  promised 
to  be  interminable.  Chickens,  pigs  and  cattle  had  been 
killed  wherever  found,  for  hungry  soldiers  after  a  battle  and 
in  darkness  ask  no  questions  on  either  side.  Mr.  Baron 
knew  he  was  being  ruined,  but  since  it  was  in  behalf  of  his 
friends,  he  maintained  remarkable  fortitude,  while  his  wife, 
with  her  thin,  white,  set  face,  honored  every  requisition. 

Some  of  the  negroes,  sighing  for  what  seemed  vanishing 
freedom,  sought  to  reach  the  Union  force,  but  were  stopped 
at  the  picket  line  by  which  General  Marston  masked  his 
retirement  from  the  field.  The  majority  of  the  slaves,  how- 
ever, were  kept  at  work  in-doors  and  out,  under  the  eyes  of 
the  Confederates,  who  quickly  showed  themselves  to  be 
savage  towards  any  disposition  to  shirk  orders. 

There  was  one  who  would  have"  received  short  shrift  if 
hands  could  have  been  laid  upon  him  —  Chunk.  None 
knew  this  better  than  he,  yet  he  was  as  fearless  as  he  was 
shrewd.  Scoville  had  already  won  from  him  unlimited  de- 
votion —  bought  him,  body  and  soul,  with  kindness  and 
freedom.  When  he  found  his  new  master  had  not  returned 
from  the  final  charge,  Chunk  questioned  one  and  another 
until  he  learned  that  Scoville  had  been  seen  to  go  down  and 
then  disappear  in  the  gloom.  Whether  he  had  been  killed 
or  captured,  no  one  knew,  but  Chunk  resolved  to  find  out 
before  morning  at  all  risks.     Yet  in  the  darkness  and  rain 


202  "M/SS  LOU." 

he  felt  much  confidence  in  his  ability  to  elude  danger,  for  he 
knew  every  inch  of  the  ground  and  of  numerous  places 
for  concealment. 

He  set  about  his  tasks  in  the  most  matter-of-fact  way, 
resolving  to  begin  operations  with  a  good  supper.  At  this 
early  stage  Aun'  Jinkey  and  her  cabin  were  both  forgotten, 
and  the  poor  old  woman  was  half  dead  from  terror.  When 
Chunk  tapped  at  the  one  window,  she  feared  the  spooks  of 
dead  soldiers  had  already  begun  their  persecutions.  Never 
was  there  a  more  welcome  and  reassuring  sound  than  the 
impatient  voice  of  her  grandson,  and  she  soon  so  rallied  as 
to  get  him  something  to  eat. 

"  I  darsn't  come  in,"  he  said.  "  I  got  ter  be  whar  I  kin 
run  en  hide.  Now  granny,  lis'n  wid  all  yo'  ears.  Marse 
Scoville  killed,  woun'ed  or  took.  I'se  gwine  ter  fin'  out 
which.  Wen  dey  gits  mo'  settle  down  lak  anuff  dey  be 
lookin'  fer  me  yere,  en  I  kyant  come  yere  no  mo',  but  I  kin 
git  ter  Miss  Lou's  winder  ef  she  hab  no  light  in  her  room. 
I  safest  whar  dey  ain'  lookin'  fer  me.  Tell  her  ter  put  no 
light  sho  !  Mebbe  she  hafter  hep  me  git  Marse  Scoville  off, 
ef  he  took  en  ef  he  woun'ed  she  de  one  ter  'tect  en  keer  fer 
'im.  Dat  ar  Perkins  kill  'im  sho,  ef  he  git  de  charnce.  Now 
ef  you  years  me  toot  twice  lak  a  squinch-owl,  you  knows 
dat  you  got  ter  go  en  tell  Miss  Lou  dat  I  need  her  hep  en 
dat  I  gwine  ter  creep  'long  de  pazzer  roof  ter  her  winder. 
Ef  I  doan  toot  you  keeps  quiet  till  you  sees  me  agin,"  and 
he  disappeared. 

"  Who'd  a  thunk  dat  ar  boy  had  sech  a  haid  !  "  ejaculated 
Aun'  Jinkey,  lighting  her  pipe.  Deep  as  would  now  be  her 
solicitude  and  great  as  her  fears,  her  grandson's  appearance 
and  words  had  dispelled  the  spook -phase  of  her  tribulations. 

Chunk  could  run  on  all  fours  as  easily  as  in  an  upright 
position,  and  he  made  his  way  rapidly  through  the  darkness. 
His  first  aim  was  to  get  his  eye  on  Perkins  and  Mad  Whately, 


CHUNK'S  QUEST.  203 

from  whom  he  felt  that  he  and  Scoville  had  the  most  to  fear. 
He  was  now  armed  with  a  knife  and  short  club,  as  well  as  a 
revolver,  and  was  determined  to  use  them  rather  than  be 
captured.  Skulking,  creeping  and  hiding  in  deep  shadow, 
he  at  last  saw  Perkins  issuing  from  his  house,  carrying  his 
lantern.  Following,  he  distinctly  observed  the  brief  interview 
between  the  overseer  and  Whately,  and  guessed  correctly 
that  Scoville  was  among  the  prisoners.  He  was  soon  able  so 
to  shift  his  position  as  to  satisfy  himself  on  this  point,  and 
also  to  note  that  Perkins,  from  his  movements,  would  be  one 
of  the  guard.  By  the  gleams  of  the  lantern  Chunk  also  saw 
that  Scoville  appeared  to  be  watching  the  overseer  as  if  sus- 
pecting treachery.  "  I  watch  'im  too,"  the  negro  soliloquized. 
"  Ef  he  play  eny  debil  trick  he  hissef  gwine  ter  de  debil 
sud'n." 

Scoville  was  indeed  anxious  about  his  position,  for  while 
he  believed  that  Whately  was  scarcely  capable  of  transcend- 
ing the  usages  of  war,  he  knew  well  that  opportunity  only 
limited  the  malignity  of  Perkins.  He  therefore  rarely  took 
his  eyes  from  this  personal  enemy. 

For  his  own  sake  and  that  of  the  guards,  Perkins  aided  in 
building  a  fire,  for  in  the  continued  rain  all  were  chilled. 
As  Chunk  saw  the  leaping  flames  and  the  lantern  so  placed 
that  its  rays  fell  on  Scoville,  he  was  almost  in  despair  of  any 
chance  for  rescue,  but  believed  that  his  best  course  was  to 
watch  for  some  change  which  promised  better.  He  remem- 
bered how  Scoville  had  employed  the  hootings  of  the 
screech-owl  as  a  signal  and  resolved  by  the  same  means  to 
prepare  the  prisoner  for  co-operation  with  any  effort  in  his 
behalf.  Therefore  he  hooted  softly  and  was  glad  to  see  from 
Scoville's  alert  yet  wary  manner  that  he  had  recognized  the 
signal. 

So  intent  was  Chunk  in  watching  his  master  that  he  did 
not  hear  the  steps  of  a  bewildered  Confederate  who  stum- 


204  "MISS  LOU."' 

bled  over  him  and  fell  headlong  with  a  volley  of  oaths. 
The  negro  employed  woful  strategy  to  mislead  the  soldier, 
for  he  grunted  like  a  pig,  thus  awakening  hopes  of  more 
fried  pork.  The  result  was  immediate  pursuit  by  all  within 
hearing,  and  Chunk  with  difficulty  escaped  by  the  aid  of 
darkness  and  his  complete  familiarity  with  the  place.  When 
at  last  he  found  himself  secure  he  panted,  "  Mout  ez  well  be 
took  fer  Chunk  ez  a  hog.  Stand  des  ez  good  a  charnce. 
Won't  try  dat  ar  game  agin." 

He  was  now  sorely  puzzled  to  know  what  to  do,  and  his 
nerves  were  somewhat  shaken  by  his  narrow  escape.  At 
last  he  resolved  to  send  his  granny  to  Miss  Lou  and  consult 
with  the  girl.  Accordingly,  he  stole  into  the  shrubbery  of 
the  garden  and  hooted  twice,  rightly  thinking  that  Scoville 
could  hear  the  signal  also  and  believe  that  something  might 
be  attempted  in  his  behalf.  Cowering  under  a  bush,  he 
soon  observed  Aun'  Jinkey  tottering  towards  the  house,  mut- 
tering, "  Good  Lawd,  hep  us  ! "  as  she  went. 

As  the  excitement  of  battle  and  exultation  over  the  cap- 
ture of  Scoville  subsided  in  Whately's  mind  he  became 
excessively  weary  and  his  exhausted  frame  suffered  from  the 
chill  and  wetness  of  the  night.  He  had  sought  to  keep  up 
by  liberal  potations  in  his  uncle's  dining-room,  but  was  re- 
solved to  get  a  night's  sleep  if  possible.  He  had  urgently 
charged  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  over  the  prisoners  to  be 
vigilant.  When  Perkins  offered  to  share  in  this  watch 
Whately,  understanding  the  vindictive  motive,  felt  that  he 
need  give  himself  no  further  anxiety.  He  next  sought  his 
mother  and  obtained  a  little  food  which  the  lady  had  brought 
to  her  room. 

"  Where  is  Cousin  Lou  ?  "  the  young  man  asked. 

"  She  is  in  her  own  room,  and  with  Zany's  help  making 
bandages.  I  would  advise  you  not  to  see  her  again  to-night. 
You  are  greatly  wearied." 


CHUNK'S  QUEST.  205 

"  Little  wonder,  after  riding  nearly  all  last  night,  and  the 
fighting  to-day." 

"Yes,  I  know,  and  have  thought  of  all  nearly  every 
moment.  I  am  only  too  thankful  that  you  have  survived. 
You  have  gone  to  the  limit  of  human  endurance  and  must 
sleep.  The  less  you  and  Louise  say  to  each  other  for  a 
short  time  the  better.  After  you  have  both  grown  calmer 
and  have  had  a  chance  to  think  you  will  see  things  in  a 
different  light." 

"  Mother,  do  you  think  I  mean  to  be  thwarted  by  that 
girl  ?  I  would  marry  her  now  from  pure  pride  —  for  the 
sake  of  humbling  her  and  teaching  her  that  she  made  the 
mistake  of  her  life  in  so  crossing  my  will  and  in  subjecting 
me  to  the  mortification  I  endured  this  morning." 

"  Madison  !  actuated  by  such  motives,  you'll  never  win 
her !  If  you  will  closely  follow  my  advice  I  believe  you 
can  succeed.  I  must  tell  you  plainly  that  if  you  join  with 
brother  and  his  wife  in  their  tactics  it  will  always  end  much 
as  it  did  this  morning." 

"  Well,  anyhow,  I  have  that  cursed  Yankee  cub  that  she 
went  walking  with  in  my  power." 

"  What !     Lieutenant  Scoville  ?  " 

"  Yes ;  he's  a  prisoner  and  Perkins  is  helping  watch  him." 

"  Then  I  implore  you  not  to  let  Louise  know  it.  She  saw 
that  this  Scoville  might  have  killed  you.  She  is  merely 
friendly  towards  him  because,  instead  of  treating  us  rudely, 
as  she  was  led  to  believe  he  would,  he  was  very  polite  and 
considerate  when  we  were  in  his  power.  That  wretch  Per- 
kins tried  to  shoot  him  to-day  and  probably  would  have  suc- 
ceeded but  for  Louise,"  and  she  narrated  the  circumstances. 

Her  son  frowned  only  the  darker  from  jealousy  and  anger. 

"O  Madison!  why  won't  you  see  things  as  they  are?" 
his  mother  resumed.  "  If  you  had  treated  this  Yankee 
officer  with   kindness   and   thanked   him   for   his   leniency 


206  "MISS  LOV." 

towards  us,  you  would  have  taken  a  long  step  in  her  favor. 
If  you  were  trying  to  make  her  hate  you,  how  could  you  set 
about  it  more  skilfully?  " 

"  Mother,"  he  replied  doggedly,  "  if  Lou  had  married  me, 
even  if  she  had  yielded  reluctantly,  I  would  have  been  her 
slave ;  but  she  has  defied  me,  humiliated  and  scoffed  at  me, 
and  I  shall  never  whine  and  fawn  for  her  favor  again.  I 
don't  believe  it  would  be  of  any  use.  If  I  should  change 
my  tactics  she  would  only  despise  and  laugh  at  me.  What's 
more,  my  very  nature  revolts  at  such  a  change.  I  can't  and 
won't  make  it.  She  shall  learn  to  fear  me.  Women  marry 
for  fear  as  well  as  love.  This  Scoville  gives  me  a  chance  to 
teach  her  the  first  lesson.  He  shall  be  sent  by  daylight  to  a 
Southern  prison  and  that  will  be  the  last  of  him.  Lou  shall 
learn,  as  all  will  find  out,  that  it's  poor  policy  to  thwart  me. 
That  major  who  interfered  so  impudently  in  our  affairs  is 
dead." 

"  O  Madison  !  " 

"You  needn't  look  so.  I  had  nothing  to  do  with  it. 
There  were  plenty  of  Yankee  bullets  flying  to-day.  All  I 
mean  to  say  is  that  it  will  prove  serious  for  any  one  to 
cross  my  path.  Fate  is  on  the  side  of  a  man  who  will 
have  his  own  way,  and  Lou  will  discover  this  fact  sooner  or 
later." 

Poor  Mrs.  Whately  was  compelled  to  rate  these  vaporings 
at  their  true  worth,  seeing  that  between  wine,  anger  and 
long  indulged  arrogance,  he  was  in  a  melodramatic  mood 
and  beyond  reason :  so  she  only  said  soothingly,  "  Please 
never  let  Louise  know  that  I  was  aware  of  Scoville's  cap- 
tivity. After  you  have  rested  and  have  had  time  to  think 
you  will  see  things  differently.  I  warn  you  however  against 
Perkins,"  she  added  solemnly.  "If  you  identify  yourself 
with  him  in  any  way  you  may  involve  yourself  and  all  of  us 
in  ruin.     Now  come,  I  will  make  a  bed  for  you  at  the  end 


CHUNK'S  QUEST.  20J 

of  the  hall  near  my  room,  and  you  had  better  sleep  while 
you  can." 

He  readily  acquiesced,  for  even  his  lurid  schemes  for  the 
future  could  keep  him  awake  no  longer.  In  a  few  moments 
he  was  sleeping  soundly  on  a  mattress,  wrapped  in  a  blanket. 
His  uniform  was  hung  on  the  back  of  a  chair  near  him  to 
dry. 


208  "MISS  LOU." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

A   BOLD   SCHEME. 

A  UN'  JINKEY  gained  Miss  Lou's  room  in  safety,  but 
panting  so  from  fright  and  exhaustion  as  to  be  for  a 
few  moments  utterly  incapable  of  speech.  The  girl  divined 
that  something  serious  was  to  be  told.  To  her  questioning 
look,  the  old  mammy  nodded,  glancing  meantime  at  Zany 
as  much  as  to  say,  "We  should  be  alone."  This  quick- 
witted negress,  consumed  with  curiosity  about  Chunk,  and 
some  deeper  interest,  resolved  not  to  be  sent  away. 

"Why  you  look  dat  away  at  Miss  Lou,  Aun'  Jinkey?" 
Zany  asked  indignantly.  "  Time  you  knowed  dat  Miss  Lou 
trus'  me  en  I  ain'  doin'  not'n  ter  loss  dat  trus'.  She  know 
bettah'n  you  dat  ef  dars  eny  ting  ter  be  done  I  de  one  ter 
he'p." 

"We  can  trust  Zany,"  whispered  Miss  Lou,  who  had 
become  very  pale.  "  You  have  some  news  about  Lieutenant 
Scoville?" 

"  Well,  on'y  dis,  honey,  Chunk  lookin'  fer  'im.  Marse 
Scoville  didn't  come  back  fum  dat  las'  fight,  he  say,  en  he 
say  ter  me  dat  ef  he  toot  twiced  lak  a  squinch-owl  dat  mean 
I  go  ter  you,  fer  he  need  yo'  he'p.  He  des  done  tooted," 
and  Aun'  Jinkey  repeated  all  of  her  grandson's  words  as  far 
as  she  could  remember  them. 

Miss  Lou  thought  a  few  moments  and  her  face  grew  very 
resolute.  "  Aun'  Jinkey,"  she  said,  "  tell  Chunk  I  will  do 
as  he  wishes,  but  he  must  act  carefully  and  not  too  hastily. 


A   BOLD  SCHEME.  2CX) 

Cousin  Mad  is  already  asleep.  One  after  another  will  follow 
his  example  and  fewer  will  be  around  by  and  by.  We  must 
take  no  risks  that  can  be  helped.  The  fact  that  he  wishes 
to  see  me  in  this  secret  way  is  pretty  good  proof  that  the 
Lieutenant  is  a  prisoner.  If  he  were  wounded  or  —  or  "  — 
but  a  rush  of  tears  suggested  the  word  she  could  not  utter. 
"  You  had  better  go  now,  and  let  no  one  frighten  you  into 
telling  any  thing.     Appeal  to  me  if  threatened." 

As  the  old  woman  was  stealing  out  she  met  Mrs.  Baron, 
who  asked  sharply,  "  What  do  you  want  ?  " 

"  Does  you  tink  I  doan  wanter  know  dat  chile  is  safe  ?  " 

"  If  you  wish  to  be  safe  yourself,  see  to  it  you  have  nothing 
more  to  do  with  that  grandson  of  yours.  He  has  sinned  away 
his  day  of  grace,  and  no  mercy  will  be  shown  to  those  who 
have  any  thing  more  to  do  with  him." 

"  I  years  you,  misus,"  said  Aun'  Jinkey,  stolidly  continuing 
on  her  way. 

Miss  Lou,  who  had  followed  her  mammy  to  the  head  of 
the  stairs,  heard  this  warning  and  returned  to  her  room  with 
a  stern  look.  She  deemed  it  best  to  say  nothing  and  give 
the  impression  that  she  could  not  endure  the  sights  and 
sounds  below  stairs. 

Mrs.  Whately  entered  soon  afterwards  and  did  her  best  to 
propitiate  her  niece.  Miss  Lou  pretended  to  be  very  weary 
and  was  glad  to  see  that  her  aunt  actually  was  so.  At  last 
the  matron  said,  "  Well,  I'll  go  down  once  more  and  see  if 
there  is  any  thing  which  I  must  attend  to  ;  then  I  shall  try  to 
rest  a  little  while  Madison  is  sleeping.  Such  experiences  as 
Ave've  had  wear  one  out  fast.  I  advise  you,  too,  my  dear,  to 
sleep  when  you  can." 

"Yes,  aunt,  I  suppose  you  are  right.  So  much  may 
happen  to-morrow." 

Mrs.  Whately  soon  retired,  and  Miss  Lou,  listening  at  her 
door  a  moment,  knew  that  she  was  sleeping.     Then  she  re- 


2IO  "MISS  LOU." 

turned  to  her  own  room,  blew  out  her  candle,  opened  the 
window  softly  and  waited  for  Chunk.  "Zany,"  she  said,  "sit 
in  the  dark  there,  and  do  not  speak  or  let  Chunk  know  you 
are  here,  unless  permitted." 

Along  the  most  secluded  end  of  the  house  the  piazza  had 
not  been  built,  a  small  lean-to  extension  taking  its  place.  An 
apartment  was  thus  formed  which  could  be  entered  from 
without  as  well  as  from  within  the  dwelling,  and  here  Mr. 
Baron  maintained  what  was  at  once  a  business  office  and  a 
study.  This  extension  was  but  one  story  high,  with  a  roof 
which  sloped  to  rising  ground  beyond.  Chunk  knew  that 
he  could  easily  gain  this  roof,  and  from  it  that  of  the  front 
piazza  also.  When  returning  through  the  garden  Aun'  Jinkey 
had  whispered  to  him  not  to  make  the  attempt  to  see  Miss 
Lou  until  ,her  light  was  extinguished.  Then  she  added  the 
words  that  Mrs.  Baron  had  just  spoken  to  her  and  hastened 
tremblingly  to  her  own  chimney-corner.  Chunk  made  a  wide 
circle,  approaching  the  house  again  at  an  angle  which  would 
give  him  a  view  of  Miss  Lou's  window,  and  watching  till  it 
darkened.  From  the  garden  he  had  carried  a  small,  light 
ladder  which  he  had  used  when  pruning  fruit-trees.  He  stole 
near  the  extension  warily,  the  shrubbery  growing  in  that 
vicinity  favoring  his  effort,  and  the  heavy  pall  of  clouds 
obscuring  almost  entirely  the  mild  radiance  of  the  moon. 

Satisfied  by  a  careful  reconnoissance  that  no  one  was  watch- 
ing or  stirring  at  that  end  of  the  house,  with  the  stealth  and 
agility  of  a  cat  he  went  from  roof  to  roof  and  crawled  to 
Miss  Lou's  window. 

"  Chunk,"  she  whispered. 

"  Dat's  me,  mistis." 

"You're  a  good,  brave  fellow.  Now  tell  me  quick  — 
don't  waste  a  word  —  where  is  Lieutenant  Scoville?" 

"He's  wid  de  pris'ners,  en  Perkins  en  sogers  watchin' 
'im." 


A   BOLD  SCHEME.-  211 

"Why  is  Perkins  watching  him?"  the  girl  asked  in  deep 
alarm. 

"  Dunno,  Miss  Lou,  'cept  on  'count  ob  he  grudge.  Mad 
Whately  en  he  talk  knowin'-like  en  den  Perkins  tek  he  lan- 
tern en  jine  de  gyard.  Wen  I  las'  see  'im  he  watchin' 
Marse  Scoville  close." 

"  Lieutenant  Scoville  wasn't  hurt,  was  he  ?  " 

"  Reck'n  not.  Didn't  'pear  dat  away,  but  he  look  at  Per- 
kins ez  ef  he  feared  on  'im.  Ef  I  had  ony  Perkins  ter  deal 
wid  I  gib  Marse  Scoville  he  freedom  in  pay  fer  mine,  but 
dar's  sogers  all  aroun'  en  dey  stick  me  quick  ez  dey  would  a 
pig." 

"  O  Chunk  !  what  shall  we  do  ?  I  could  have  no  influence 
over  the  guard  or  Perkins  either.  Oh  !  oh  /  Mad  Whately, 
you'll  end  by  making  me  loathe  you.  To  think  of  employ- 
ing that  treacherous  wretch  !  " 

"  Dat's  des  w'at  I  feard  on,  Miss  Lou.  Reck'n  yo'  cousin 
en  Perkins  projeckin'  some  debil  trick." 

"You  say  my  cousin  has  charge  of  the  prisoners?" 

"  Yassum.  I  yeared  'im  gib  de  orders  'bout  um,  but  I 
too  fur  off  ter  year  w'at  he  say." 

"  Can  you  think  of  any  way,  Chunk?  " 

"  Ef  de  gyard  ony  all  get  ter  sleep,  I'd  tek  de  risk  ob 
tacklin'  Perkins,  but  dere's  too  many  en  I  des  stumped  ter 
know  w'at  ter  do." 

"  Hi !  Miss  Lou,"  whispered  listening  Zany,  "  I  kin  tell 
you  w'at  ter  do." 

"  Doan  you  pay  no  'tention  ter  her  foolishness,"  said 
Chunk  coolly.  "  Dis  life-en-death  business,  en  Zany  out- 
growed  her  sense." 

"  En  you  ain'  growed  into  your'n,"  responded  Zany.  "  Ef 
you  has,  why  doan  you  tell  Miss  Lou  'bout  tings  dat  kin  be 
done  'stead  o  tings  dat  kyant  be?" 

"  Well,  Zany,  what  have  you  to  say  ?  Quick,  and  speak 
lower." 


212  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Miss  Lou,  dar's  Mad*  Whately's  coat  en  pants  hangin' 
out  in  de  hall.  You  put  dem  on,  en  tie  yo'  arm  up  in  a 
sling.     In  de  night  who  say  you  ain'  Marse  Whately?  " 

"  O  Zany ! "  exclaimed  the  girl,  appalled  at  first  by  the 
boldness  of  the  scheme. 

"Well,  dar  now,"  whispered  Chunk,  "who'd  tink  dat  ar 
gyurl  got  so  much  gumption  !  See  yere,  Miss  Lou,  dat  de 
way  ef  you  got  de  spunk  ter  do  it.  Ole  Perkins  tink  you 
Mad  Whately  comin'  ter  play  de  debil  trick  en  let  you  tek 
Marse  Scoville  way  quietly,  en  de  gyard  won'  'fere  wid  you 
nudder,  kase  dey  un'er  yo'  cousin.  You  kin  go  en  lead 
Marse  Scoville  right  off,  en  if  Perkins  follow  I  settle  'im." 

"Do  you  think  there's  no  other  way?"  Miss  Lou  asked, 
with  quick,  agitated  breathing. 

"  To'  de  Lawd,  I  doesn't." 

"  I  don't  know  what  they  would  do  to  me  in  the  morning, 
I'd  be  sent  away.  Oh,  you  can't  realize  the  risk  I  would 
take." 

"  'Spects  not,  mistis.  I  ony  know  Marse  Scoville  tek  mo' 
resk  fer  you  ef  he  could." 

Chunk  had  touched  the  right  chord  now.  She  set  her 
white  face  like  flint  in  the  darkness,  and  said,  "  I'll  make  the 
attempt,  no  matter  what  happens  to  me." 

"  Den  I  des  sneak  out  en  get  he  coat  en  trousers,"  Zany 
whispered. 

"  Yes." 

"  En,  Miss  Lou,  you  des  come  out  de  house  dis  away  wid 
me  en  Zany,"  Chunk  added.  "  Less  charnce  er  bein' 
stopped.  We  kin  go  troo  de  gyardin  en  de  bushes  till  we 
mos'  whar  we  kin  see  Marse  Scoville.  Mebbe  hit  berry  much 
plainer  w'at  ter  do  arter  we  get  out  en  look  roun'.  I  hab  a 
ladder  yere  en  you  git  down  mighty  easy." 

"Yes,  that's  the  best  way.  I  wish  to  take  no  risks  of 
being  seen  till  after  I  make  my  attempt." 


A   BOLD  SCHEME.  213 

Zany  reconnoitred  the  hall.  No  one  was  in  sight.  Even 
Mrs.  Baron,  wearied  out,  had  retired,  and  Mr.  Baron  had 
resolved  to  spend  the  night  in  the  dining-room,  partly  out 
of  courtesy  to  the  Confederate  general  and  partly  to  be 
ready  for  any  emergency.  In  the  hall  and  on  the  front  and 
rear  piazzas  were  alert  sentinels  who  would  have  observed 
and  reported  any  unusual  proceeding,  —  therefore  Chunk's 
plan  was  the  only  feasible  one.  In  the  darkness  Zany  helped 
Miss  Lou  don  her  cousin's  uniform  and  slouched  hat  which, 
limp  from  the  rain,  fell  over  her  face.  She  was  not  so  very 
much  shorter  than  he  as  to  make  the  fit  a  bad  one  when 
seen  in  the  partial  light.  The  trousers  had  to  be  turned  up, 
but  that  would  be  expected  on  account  of  the  mud.  Her 
plumpness  filled  out  the  coat  very  comfortably  and  her  arm 
in  a  sling  made  the  disguise  almost  perfect. 

While  Miss  Lou  was  dressing  Chunk  again  reconnoitred 
and  reported  the  coast  clear.  It  was  now  about  midnight 
and  all  were  sleeping  except  those  whom  imperative  duty 
or  pain  kept  awake.  Chunk  led  the  way,  steadying  Miss 
Lou  with  a  firm  hand,  and  Zany  followed. 

"  Now,  Miss  Lou,"  Chunk  whispered,  "  I  tek  you  de 
s'curest  way,  so  you  git  back  en'  nobody  see  you  ef  I  git 
cotched." 

They  made  a  circuit  to  avoid  the  kitchen  and  climbed 
over  a  low  fence  into  the  garden.  On  the  farther  side,  open- 
ing on  the  driveway  to  the  stables,  was  a  gate.  Before 
reaching  this,  Miss  Lou  said  to  Zany,  "  You  stay  here.  If 
there's  an  alarm,  go  to  the  kitchen.  You  must  not  be  known 
to  have  had  any  thing  to  do  with  this  affair.  It  might  cost 
you  your  life." 

"  Ve'y  well,  Miss  Lou." 

The  young  girl  and  her  guide  paused  at  the  gate  some 
moments,  for  attendants  upon  the  wounded,  with  whom  the 
out-buildings  were  filled,  were  passing  to  and  fro.     At  last 


214  "MISS  LOU." 

they  stole  across  the  roadway  to  the  shelter  of  a  clump  of 
trees  beyond.  From  this  point  they  could  see  the  group 
of  prisoners  about  the  fire,  which  was  in  a  rather  dying  condi- 
tion. It  was  evident  that  some  of  the  guards  had  succumbed 
to  weariness,  but  Perkins  still  watched  with  the  tirelessness 
of  hate,  his  lantern  so  placed  that  its  rays  fell  on  Scoville, 
who  could  not  make  a  movement  without  being  observed. 
Indeed,  it  was  clear  that  he,  too,  was  almost  overcome  with 
sleep,  for  he  occasionally  nodded  and  swayed  before  the  fire. 

"Now,  Miss  Lou,"  whispered  Chunk,  "I  gwine  ter  wake 
Marse  Scoville  up  by  tootin'  lak  a  squinch-owl,"  and  he  did 
so  briefly. 

The  Union  officer  was  much  too  wary  to  start  and  look 
around,  but  he  gradually  proved  that  he  was  alert.  Close 
scrutiny  of  Perkins  showed  that  the  signal  had  no  signifi- 
cance to  him. 

"  Miss  Lou,"  resumed  Chunk,  "  dere's  not'n  fer  you  but 
ter  walk  right  down  de  road  ter  de  fire,  berry  quiet  like,  put 
yo'  finger  on  yo'  lips  ter  Perkins  so  he  tink  you  'bout  ter 
play  de  debil  trick,  en'  den  lead  Marse  Scoville  into  de 
gyardin.  Ef  Perkins  foller,  I  foller  'im.  My  hoss  down  by 
de  run  en  we  git  off  dat  away." 

The  girl  drew  a  long  breath  and  started.  Now  that  she 
was  in  the  crisis  of  the  emergency  a  certain  innate  spirit 
and  courage  sustained  her.  Knowing  her  cousin  so  well, 
she  could  assume  his  very  gait  and  manner,  while  her  arm, 
carried  in  a  sling,  perfected  a  disguise  which  only  broad 
light  would  have  rendered  useless.  Her  visit  caused  no  sur- 
prise to  the  sergeant  of  the  guard,  on  whom  at  first  she  kept 
her  eyes.  He  merely  saluted  and  thought  Lieutenant 
Whately  was  attentive  to  his  duty.  Perkins  was  not  sur- 
prised either,  yet  a  little  perplexed.  As  it  had  been  sup- 
posed and  hoped,  the  thought  rose  instantly  in  his  revengeful 
nature  that  the  Confederate    officer  had  some  design   on 


A    BOLD   SCHEME.  21$ 

Scoville.  The  latter  watched  the  form  recognized  by  the 
others  as  that  of  Whately  with  the  closest  scrutiny,  and  an 
immense  throb  of  hope  stirred  his  heart.  Could  it  be 
possible  ? 

Miss  Lou  looked  over  the  sleeping  prisoners  for  a  moment 
and  then,  as  if  satisfied,  stepped  ^uite  near  to  Perkins,  guard- 
ing meantime  not  to  permit  the  rays  of  the  lamp  to  fall  on 
her  face.  "Leave  him  to  me,"  she  whispered,  with  a  nod 
towards  Scoville,  and  she  put  her  finger  to  her  lips.  She 
next  touched  Scoville  on  the  shoulder  and  simply  said, 
"  Come." 

He  rose  as  if  reluctantly  and  followed. 

Perkins  did  not  suspect  the  ruse,  the  disguise  was  so  good 
and  Whately's  right  to  appear  so  unquestioned  ;  but  he  felt 
defrauded  in  having  no  part  in  the  vengeance  which  he  sup- 
posed would  be  wreaked  on  Sc  oville.  A  fter  a  moment  or 
two  of  thought,  he  obeyed  the  ii  npulse  to  follow,  hoping  to 
see  what  Whately  intended  to  dc ,  and  if  circumstances  war- 
ranted, to  be  near  to  help.  "  If  Mad  Whately's  high-strung 
notions  lead  'im  to  fight  a  duel,"  he  tho  lght,  "  en  the  Yank 
comes  off  best,  I'll  settle  my  own  :  core.  Whately  was  ter'ble 
stirred  up  'bout  the  Yank's  talkin'  ter  Lis  cousin,  en  would 
like  ter  kill  'im,  but  his  officer-notions  won't  let  'im  kill  the 
blue-coated  cuss  ez  I  would.  FT  thar's  ter  be  a  fight,  I 
won't  be  fur  off,"  and  he  stole  alter  tae  two  figures  disap- 
pearing in  the  gloom. 

But  Nemesis  was  on  his  steps.  C  iunk  had  shaken  with 
silent  laughter  as  he  saw  that  their  scheme  was  working  well, 
but  he  never  took  his  eyes  from  Peikins.  Crouching,  crawl- 
ing, he  closed  on  the  overseer's  track,  and  when  the  man 
passed  into  the  garden,  the  negro  followed. 

As  Scoville  accompanied  Miss  Lou,  he  soon  ventured  to 
breathe  her  name  in  a  tentative  way.  "  Hush  ! "  she  whis- 
pered.    Then  his  heart  beat  thick  with  overpowering  emo- 


2l6  "MISS  LOU." 

tions  of  gratitude,  admiration  and  love.  Entering  the  garden, 
she  led  the  way  quickly  towards  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin,  and  at 
a  point  where  the  shrubbery  was  thickest  about  the  path, 
turned  suddenly,  put  her  finger  on  her  lips  and  breathed 
"  Listen." 

They  distinctly  heard  steps  following  and  drew  back  into 
the  bushes.  Then  came  the  thud  of  a  blow  and  the  heavy 
fall  of  a  man.  The  blow  was  so  severe  that  not  even  a  groan 
followed,  and  for  a  moment  all  was  still.  Then  Chunk,  like 
a  shadow,  glided  forward  and  would  have  passed  had  not 
Miss  Lou  whispered  his  name. 

"  Foller  me,"  he  answered  breathlessly. 

This  they  did,  but  Scoville  secured  the  girl's  hand  and 
carried  it  to  his  lips.  The  negro  led  the  way  beyond  the 
garden  to  the  run,  where  he  had  left  his  horse.  "Lis'n 
onct  mo',"  he  said.     "  Dat  was  Perkins  I  laid  out." 

All  was  still.  "  Chunk,"  said  Scoville,  "  go  back  on  your 
tracks  a  little  and  see  if  there  are  any  signs  of  alarm." 

Obedience  was  very  prompt,  for  Chunk  muttered*as  he 
ran,  "My  heart  des  bustin'  'bout  Zany.  Got  ter  lebe  her 
now,  sho  !    Ter  thunk  ob  her  showin'  so  much  gumption  ! " 

Scoville  again  took  Miss  Lou's  hands.  "Oh,  hasten, 
hasten,"  she  said  breathlessly,  "you  are  in  great  danger 
here." 

"  I  can  scarcely  speak  to  you,"  he  replied,  "  my  heart 
is  so  full.  You  brave,  noble  little  girl !  How  have  you 
accomplished  this  ?  " 

Incoherently  she  told  him  and  again  urged,  "Oh,  do  go 
at  once,  for  my  sake  as  well  as  yours,  or  all  may  be  in  vain. 
I  can't  breathe  until  I've  put  back  my  cousin's  uniform." 

Now  that  the  supreme  crisis  of  danger  had  apparently 
passed  for  the  moment,  she  was  trembling  violently  in  ner- 
vous reaction,  and  could  speak  only  in  little  gasps.  Every 
instant  a  deeper  appreciation  of  the  immense  effort  she  had 


//   BOLD  SCHEME.  21J 

made  in  his  behalf  overwhelmed  Scoville,  and  for  a  moment 
he  lost  all  self-control.  Snatching  her  to  his  breast  he 
whispered,  "  O  you  little  hero,  you  little  saint,  I  wish  I 
could  shield  you  with  my  life.  I  don't  believe  you  half 
realize  what  you  have  done  for  me,  bravest,  truest,  sweet- 
est"— 

"Oh,  hush,"  she  pleaded,  extricating  herself  from  his 
arms.     "  Go,  please  go  at  once,  for  my  sake." 

"  Yes,  my  dear  girl,  I  must  go  soon,  more  for  your  sake 
than  mine.  With  this  horse  and  this  start,  I  am  safe.  Oh, 
it's  terribly  hard  to  leave  you."  Then  he  hooted  low  to  recall 
Chunk.  "  Don't  tremble  so.  After  all,  it's  best  to  wait  a 
few  moments  to  make  sure  there  is  no  pursuit.  Thank  God, 
after  what  you  have  done  for  me  to-night  you  will  never  for- 
get me,  you  will  always  care  for  me.  Again  I  see  as  never 
before  how  true  it  is  that  a  woman  cares  most  for  him  whom 
most  she  has  tried  to  help.  You  have  risked  much  for  me ; 
I  give  all  to  you.  Only  death  can  keep  me  from  seeking 
you  and  living  for  you  always.  Remember,  I  ask  nothing 
which  your  own  heart  does  not  prompt,  but  you  cannot  help 
my  giving  undying  loyalty.  See,  I  just  kneel  to  you  in  homage 
and  gratitude.     There  never  was  such  a  gem  of  a  girl." 

Chunk  now  appeared,  recalled  from  a  more  affectionate 
parting  than  Zany  had  ever  vouchsafed  before,  and  he  began 
to  unhitch  the  horse. 

"  Chunk  must  go  back  with  you,"  Scoville  began. 

"  Oh,  no,"  she  whispered,  "  I  cannot  breathe  till  you  both 
are  well  away.     Chunk  would  be  killed  instantly  "  — 

"  No  matter ;  he  has  become  a  soldier  like  myself  and 
must  take  all  risks.  I  will  not  leave  this  spot  —  I  will  go 
with  you  myself,  rather  than  leave  you  here." 

"  Why,  ob  co'se  I  'spects  ter  go  back  wid  you,  Miss  Lou. 
You  tink  I  gwine  ter  lebe  you  yere  en  dat  ladder  dar  ter 
tell  de  hull  business?    Come  wid  me." 


2l8  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Well,  then,  good-by,  and  God  keep  you,  Lieutenant.  I 
shall  hope  to  see  you  again." 

"  To  see  you  again  will  be  my  dearest  hope.  Dear,  dear 
little  Lou  !  how  brave  you've  been  !  You've  won  a  soldier's 
whole  heart  forever.  How  can  I  say  good-by?  You  can't 
dream  how  dear  you  have  become  to  me.  Please,  one  kiss 
before  we  separate." 

Yielding  to  an  impulse  then  not  understood,  she  put  her 
arm  swiftly  about  his  neck,  kissed  him,  and  turned  so 
rapidly  towards  her  home  that  Chunk  could  scarcely  keep 
pace  with  her. 

They  reached  the  ladder  unobserved,  and  from  the  roof 
of  the  extension  the  way  to  Miss  Lou's  room  was  easy. 
Chunk  went  to  a  point  from  which  he  could  watch  the  girl 
enter  her  apartment.  Putting  the  ladder  back  into  the 
garden,  he  rejoined  Scoville,  and  together  they  made  their 
way  in  the  direction  of  the  retiring  Union  column.  Scoville 
never  wearied  in  questioning  his  attendant  about  every 
detail  of  Miss  Lou's  action,  while  conjectures  as  to  her 
experiences  often  robbed  him  of  sleep.  Never  was  a  man 
more  completely  won  and  held  in  love's  sweet  thraldom. 

On  regaining  her  room,  Miss  Lou  hastily  threw  off  her 
cousin's  clothes  and  resumed  her  own  apparel.  Then  she 
softly  and  cautiously  opened  her  door.  With  the  exception 
of  sounds  in  the  lower  hall,  all  was  still,  and  she  slipped  out 
in  her  stocking-feet,  replaced  the  uniform  on  the  chairs, 
stole  back  and  bolted  her  door.  For  half  an  hour  she  sat 
panting  on  her  chair,  listening  to  every  sound.  Only  the 
groans  of  the  wounded  smote  her  ears.  "  Oh,  thank  God  ! 
I  do  not  hear  his  voice  among  them,"  she  half  sobbed,  in 
pity  for  those  who  were  suffering.  "  Well,  I  can  best  forget 
my  anxiety  about  him  by  doing  something  for  these  poor 
men.  Oh,  how  strange  and  true  his  words  are !  He 
touched  my  heart  at  first  by  just  being  helpless  when  he  fell 


A   BOLD  SCJ/EME.  219 

by  the  run,  and  every  thing  I  do  for  him  seems  to  make 
him  dearer.  It  cannot  be  that  I  shall  never  see  him  again. 
Oh,  when  shall  I  forget  the  way  he  took  me  in  his  arms  ? 
It  seemed  as  if  he  gave  me  his  whole  heart  then  and 
couldn't  help  himself." 

There  was  a  near  mutter  of  thunder.  In  her  deep  pre- 
occupation she  had  not  noticed  the  coming  of  another 
shower.  It  proved  a  short  but  heavy  one,  and  she  exulted. 
"  The  rain  will  obliterate  all  our  tracks." 

Calmer  thought  led  to  the  conclusion  that  the  affair  would 
be  very  serious  for  her  if  her  part  in  it  was  discovered.  She 
had  acted  almost  without  thought,  without  realizing  the  risks 
she  had  incurred,  and  now  the  possible  consequences  so 
appalled  her  that  she  resolved  to  be  on  her  guard  in  every 
possible  way.  "  He  knew,  he  understood  the  risk  I  took 
better  than  I  did  then,  better  than  I  do  now,  perhaps,"  she 
breathed  softly.  "  That's  so  fine  in  him  —  that  way  he  has 
of  making  me  feel  that  one's  worth  being  cared  for."  She 
was  far  too  excited  and  anxious  to  sleep.  Wrapping  herself 
up,  she  watched  at  her  window.  Soon  the  stars  began  to 
twinkle  beneath  the  clouds  in  the  west,  showing  that  this 
last  shower  was  a  clearing  one,  and  that  the  radiance  of  the 
moon  might  soon  be  undimmed.  The  fires  along  the  ridge 
which,  as  she  believed,  still  defined  the  Union  position,  were 
burning  low.  Suddenly  flashes  and  reports  of  firearms  in 
that  direction  startled  her. 


220  "MISS  LOU. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

A  HOME  A  HOSPITAL. 

THE  sudden  night  alarm  caused  by  firing  on  the  ridge 
can  be  easily  explained.  Wearied  as  were  the  Con- 
federate general  and  his  men,  and  severe  as  had  been  the 
repulse  of  their  first  attack,  both  were  undaunted  and,  after 
rest  and  refreshment,  eager  to  bring  the  battle  to  a  more 
decisive  issue,  and  it  was  determined  to  learn  long  before 
morning  whether  the  Federal  force  was  on  the  ridge  or  not. 
During  the  last  shower  a  reconnoitring  party  was  sent  out 
stealthily,  a  few  of  the  rear-guard  captured,  from  whom  it 
was  learned  that  the  Union  column  had  been  on  the  march 
for  hours. 

Mrs.  Whately  was  wakened  and  helped  her  disabled  son 
to  dress  in  haste.  Little  did  Miss  Lou  know  about  the  term 
alibi,  but  she  had  the  shrewdness  to  show  herself  and  to 
appear  much  alarmed.  Opening  her  door,  she  gave  a 
glimpse  of  herself  in  night  attire  with  her  long  hair  hanging 
over  her  shoulders,  and  cried,  "Oh,  oh,  are  we  attacked?  " 

"  If  we  are  you  may  have  sad  reason  to  wish  that  you  had 
obeyed  me  this  morning,"  replied  her  cousin  sternly.  "  You 
no  more  understand  your  folly  and  danger  than  a  child. 
Now  I'm  compelled  to  look  after  my  prisoners  first,"  and  he 
rushed  away. 

"  Come  in  my  room,  Louise,"  said  her  aunt.  "Whatever 
happens,  it  is  best  that  we  should  be  together."  The  girl 
was  so  agitated,  fearing  that  in  some  way  her  adventures 


A   HOME  A    HOSriTAL.  221 

might  be  discovered,  that  she  had  no  occasion  to  feign 
alarm.  Mrs.  Whately  sought  only  to  soothe  and  quiet,  also 
to  extenuate  her  son's  words.  "  I  don't  suppose  we  truly 
realize  yet,  as  Madison  does,  what  war  means,"  she  con- 
cluded. 

Mr.  Baron  soon  sent  up  word  that  there  was  no  special 
occasion  for  further  fears,  and  that  the  ladies  might  sleep  if 
they  could,  until  morning. 

But  there  was  no  more  sleep  for  Mad  Whately.  As  soon 
as  he  reached  the  spot  where  the  prisoners  had  been  kept 
he  asked  sharply,  "  Where  is  that  Yankee  officer  and 
Perkins?" 

The  man  then  on  duty  answered,  "  The  sergeant  I  relieved 
said  that  you  took  'im  away,  sir,  and  that  the  man  named 
Perkins  followed  you." 

"There's  been  treachery  here,"  cried  Whately  in  a  rage. 
"  Bring  that  sergeant  here." 

The  weary  man  was  half  dragged  in  his  sleep  to  the  officer 
and  there  thoroughly  awakened  by  a  volley  of  oaths.  He 
stolidly  told  his  story,  concluding,  "  I  cud  a  sworn  it  was 
you,  and  the  overseer  followed  less'n  three  minutes  after 
you  left." 

" '  I  left '  —  curse  you  —  don't  say  that  again.  You've  been 
fooled  or  was  asleep  and  neglected  your  duty." 

"Well  then,  sir,"  was  the  dogged  reply,  "find  that  over- 
seer who  was  a  watchin'  the  Yank  like  a  cat.  Ast  'im  ;  ast 
my  men  ef  I  wasn't  awake  en  ef  I  didn't  s'lute  you  soon  ez 
you  come.  There's  the  overseer's  lantern  burnin'  yet  jis 
whar  he  left  it." 

At  this  moment  Perkins  came  staggering  towards  the  fire, 
with  both  hands  to  his  head  as  if  trying  to  hold  it  together. 
His  clothes  were  muddy,  his  face  was  ghastly  and  he  stared 
at  Whately  as  if  the  officer  was  also  a  part  of  a  horrid 
dream. 


222  "MISS  LOU." 

Whately  seized  him  roughly  by  the  arm  and  said  sternly, 
"Speak,  man.  What  does  all  this  mean?  Where's  the 
Yank?" 

"  For  God's  sake,  quit,"  cried  Perkins.  "  I'm  nigh  dead 
now.    You've  got  me  in  anuff  trouble  for  one  night." 

"  Trouble  —  you  !  What's  your  trouble  to  mine  ?  I'm 
responsible  for  these  prisoners.  Now  where's  that  Yank? 
Quick,  or  you  will  have  trouble." 

"  I  ain't  seen  'im  since  yer  took  'im  away  — you.  I  ain't 
one  of  your  understrappers.  Ez  I  wuz  follerin'  yer  some  one 
knocked  me  down  from  behind  and  nigh  onto  killed  me.  I 
jes  gittin'  my  senses  back." 

Although  so  enraged,  Whately  knew  that  as  a  soldier  he 
must  curb  his  passion,  report  the  facts  immediately  and  see 
what  could  be  done.  His  superior  officer  was  called,  all  the 
parties  questioned  closely,  the  garden  and  Aun'  Jinkey's 
cabin  searched,  but  no  new  facts  discovered.  The  old 
negress  was  savagely  threatened,  but  she  only  replied,  "  I 
dunno,  I  dunno  not'n.  W'at  got  inter  you  ter  tink  an  ole 
tottery,  skeered  ooman  lak  me  gwine  out  in  de  dark  en 
knock  Marse  Perkins  on  de  haid?" 

"Where's  your  grandson,  Chunk?"  Whately  demanded 
fiercely. 

"  He  des  light  out  wid  de  Yankees  dis  eb'nin'." 

The  conclusion  guessed  at  was  that  Scoville  had  been 
rescued  by  his  own  men,  who  were  known  to  be  daring 
scouts.  In  the  darkness  and  confusion  after  the  battle,  it 
was  thought  they  had  mingled  with  the  Confederates,  learned 
the  situation  of  their  leader  and  the  general  appearance  of 
Whately  with  his  disabled  arm.  Arrayed  in  the  Southern 
uniform,  of  which  scouts  always  had  a  supply,  and  favored 
by  the  sleepy  condition  of  the  guard,  one  of  the  scouts  had 
played  the  trick  winch  Whately  rued  so  bitterly.  Others, 
on  the  watch,  had  struck  down  Perkins  and  carried  Scoville 


A    HOME   A    HOSPITAL.  22$ 

off  in  safety.  No  other  theory  they  could  hit  upon  ex- 
plained so  well  what  was  known.  The  tricked  sergeant  was 
placed  under  arrest,  and  Whately,  who  had  gone  to  sleep 
with  such  high  and  mighty  notions  of  his  prowess  and 
friendly  league  with  fate,  found  himself  in  partial  disgrace 
and  in  the  depths  of  mortification.  He  kept  guard  over  his 
prisoners  in  person  the  remainder  of  the  night  and  again 
had  opportunity  to  repent  at  leisure.  He  mentally  cursed 
himself  as  a  fool,  for  now  he  remembered  his  mother's  words. 
If  he  had  shown  leniency  to  Scoville,  and  brought  him  into 
the  house,  he  might  have  kept  the  prisoner  and  won  the 
good-will  of  his  cousin.  Now,  she  would  probably  hear  the 
humiliating  facts  and  be  less  inclined  either  to  fear  or  favor 
him.  It  was  well  that  no  suspicion  on  his  part  or  that  of 
others  had  fallen  on  her,  for  she  was  not  one  who  could  face 
coolly  a  severe  cross-questioning. 

Perkins  skulked  off  to  his  house,  assuaged  his  aching  head 
with  cold  water  and  his  wounded  spirit  with  whiskey.  As 
he  tried  to  think  the  matter  over  a  vague  suspicion  of  the 
truth  began  to  enter  his  confused  brain.  The  little  slipper 
with  which  he  had  been  hit  over  the  eyes  in  the  morning 
now  became  a  broad  hint.  He  knew  well,  however,  that  it 
would  be  dangerous  to  make  any  charges,  or  even  sugges- 
tions, unless  he  had  ample  proof. 

When  all  became  quiet  again  Miss  Lou,  in  spite  of  deep 
anxieties,  was  overcome  by  extreme  weariness  and  slept 
until,  in  a  dream,  she  heard  Scoville  moaning  and  sighing 
in  the  extremity  of  physical  pain.  Starting  up,  she  saw  it 
was  broad  day.  She  passed  her  hand  confusedly  over  her 
brow  and  tried  to  recall  what  had  occurred,  to  understand 
the  sounds  which  had  suggested  her  dream.  Then  in  a 
flash,  the  strange  swirl  of  events  in  which  she  was  involved 
presented  itself  and  she  knew  she  had  wakened  to  other 
experiences  beyond  even  her  imagination.     The  groans  of 


224  "MISS  LOU."' 

wounded  men  brought  pitiful  tears  to  her  eyes  and  steadied 
her  nerves  by  banishing  the  thought  of  self.  Whatever 
might  befall  her,  so  much  worse  was  the  fate  of  others  that 
already  she  was  passing  into  the  solemnity  of  spirit  inspired 
by  the  presence  of  mortal  pain  and  death.  She  drew  the 
curtains  of  her  window  and  then  shrunk  back,  shuddering 
and  sobbing,  for  scattered  over  the  lawn,  men  and  horses 
lay  stark  and  motionless.  More  pitiful  still,  here  and  there 
a  wounded  horse  was  struggling  feebly.  The  spring  morn- 
ing, dewy,  bright,  fragrant,  made  these  evidences  of  strife 
tenfold  more  ghastly.  There  could  not  be  a  more  terrible 
indictment  of  war  than  nature's  peaceful  loveliness. 

By  the  time  she  was  dressed  she  was  joined  by  Mrs. 
Whately,  who  looked  serious  indeed.  Before  they  could 
descend  to  the  lower  hall,  Madison,  haggard  and  gloomy  of 
aspect,  intercepted  them.  Looking  at  his  cousin's  red  eyes 
and  pale  face,  he  asked  abruptly,  "  What's  the  matter?" 

"Do  you  think  I  am  accustomed  to  these  sights  and 
sounds?"  she  answered. 

"  Oh,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  which  seemed  to  her  heartless, 
"  it's  an  old  story  to  me.  Mother,  I  must  speak  alone  with 
you  a  moment." 

She  turned  back  with  him  to  her  room,  meantime  saying, 
"  Louise,  I  do  not  think  you  had  better  go  down  without 
me." 

The  girl  tremblingly  returned  to  her  apartment,  fearing 
that  now  she  might  be  forced  to  confront  her  own  actions. 
But  she  was  conscious  of  a  sort  of  passive  courage.  Mad 
Whately's  anger,  or  that  of  others,  was  a  little  thing  com- 
pared to  the  truth  that  men  were  dead  and  dying  all  about 
her. 

"  Mother,"  said  her  son,  "  I  had  cursed  luck  last  night. 
I  wish  I  had  slept  on  the  rain-soaked  ground  near  my  pris- 
oners," and  he  told  her  what  had  happened. 


A   HOME  A   HOSPITAL.  22$ 

"  O  Madison  !  "  sighed  Mrs.  Whately,  "  I  wish  this  expe- 
rience would  teach  you  to  be  more  guided  by  me.  Louise 
cared  nothing  for  this  Yankee,  except  in  a  sort  of  grateful, 
friendly  way.  Through  him,  you  could  have  done  so  much 
to  disarm  "  — 

"  Oh,  well,  mother,  the  milk  is  spilled.  If  possible,  let 
the  whole  affair  be  kept  from  her  knowledge." 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  that  will  be  the  best  way.  If  she  hears 
about  it,  we  must  try  to  explain  by  the  usages  of  war.  Now 
Madison,  you  are  cool.  Let  experience  be  your  teacher,  for 
you  must  face  the  truth.     You  must  either  give  her  up  "  — 

"  I'll  never  give  her  up." 

"  Then,  as  Major  Brockton  said,  you  must  win  her  like  a 
Southern  gentleman.  Her  spirit  is  as  high  as  yours.  You 
can't  continue  to  speak  to  her  as  you  did  last  night  and  this 
morning.  Try  to  realize  the  facts.  In  the  seclusion  of  her 
bringing  up,  Louise  has  learned  nothing  of  the  convention- 
alities of  society  which  might  incline  her  towards  a  good 
match  on  general  principles.  So  far  from  this,  the  many 
old-fashioned  romances  she  has  read  have  made  her  feel  that 
she  must  and  will  have  her  romance.  If  you  can  make 
Louise  feel  that  you  love  her  so  well  as  to  become  her  gal- 
lant suitor,  circumstances  may  soon  give  you  great  advan- 
tages. She  may  be  cold  and  indifferent  for  a  time,  but  like 
all  passionate,  high-strung  natures,  present  impulses  against 
may  turn  just  as  strongly  for  you.  At  least,  you  have  not  to 
contend  with  that  most  fatal  of  all  attitudes  —  indifference. 
A  great  change  in  you  will  be  a  flattering  tribute  to  her 
power  to  which  no  girl  would  be  indifferent.  I  must  tell 
you  now  once  for  all  that  I  will  not  again  assist  in  any  high- 
handed measures  against  Louise.  Not  only  the  futility  of 
such  action,  but  my  own  dignity  and  sense  of  right,  forbid 
it.  I  did  not  understand  her  at  first.  Now  that  I  do,  I  am 
all  the  more  eager  to  call  her  daughter ;  but  I  wish  her  to 


226  "MISS  LOU." 

feel  towards  me  as  she  should  in  such  a  relation.  Yesterday, 
when  I  apologized  and  told  her  that  I  meant  to  treat  her 
with  kindness  and  fairness,  she  kissed  me  like  the  warm- 
hearted girl  she  is.  I  will  help  you  win  her  as  a  man  should 
win  his  wife  ;  I  will  not  be  dragged  into  any  more  false  posi- 
tions which  can  end  only  in  humiliation.  I  will  be  your 
tireless  ally  in  the  only  way  you  can  succeed,  but  in  no 
other." 

"  Very  well,  mother,  I  agree,"  said  Whately,  whose  nature 
it  was  to  react  from  one  extreme  to  another. 

"  Ah,  now  I  have  hope.     How  is  your  arm? " 

"  It  pains  horribly." 

Mrs.  Whately  went  to  Miss  Lou's  room  and  said,  "  For- 
give me  for  keeping  you  waiting.  Madison  is  almost  beside 
himself  with  pain  in  his  arm,  and  I  will  be  detained  a  little 
longer." 

In  her  immense  relief  that  she  was  not  charged  with  all 
she  dreaded,  Miss  Lou  had  leisure  from  her  fears  to  feel 
commiseration  for  her  cousin.  When  at  last  he  appeared 
she  said  kindly,  "  I  am  sorry  you  are  suffering  so  much." 

"  If  I  thought  you  really  cared  I  wouldn't  mind  the  pain," 
he  replied.  "Cousin  Lou,  I  owe  an  apology,  several,  I 
reckon,  but  I've  been  so  distracted  between  conflicting  feel- 
ings, duties  and  pain,  that  I  scarcely  know  what  I  say." 

"  You  little  know  me  if  you  think  I'm  weighing  words  at 
this  time,"  she  replied.  "  Come,  let  us  forget  the  past, 
shake  hands  and  remember  that  we  are  simply  cousins." 

He  took  her  hand  instantly,  but  said,  "  You  ask  what  is 
impossible.  Suppose  you  had  said,  'Just  remember  your 
arm  is  well  from  this  moment,'  would  it  be  well  ?  I  cannot 
help  my  feelings  towards  you  and  don't  wish  to." 

"Very  well,  then,"  she  sighed,  "I  cannot  help  mine 
either.     I  don't  wish  to  talk  on  that  subject  any  more." 

"  Then  I  must  plead  by  actions.    Well,  I  must  go  now." 


A   HOME  A   HOSPITAL.  22  J 

Mrs.  Whately  was  much  pleased,  for  her  son  was  adopting 
just  the  course  she  desired.  She  added  nothing  and  accom- 
panied Louise  down  stairs. 

The  amputating  table  had  been  removed  and  the  halls 
cleansed,  but  the  unmistakable  odor  of  the  hospital  pervaded 
the  house.  Every  apartment  on  the  first  floor  except  the 
dining-room  was  filled  with  the  wounded.  Some  were 
flushed  and  feverish  by  reason  of  their  injuries,  others,  pallid 
from  loss  of  blood  and  ebbing  vital  forces. 

The  Confederate  general,  with  his  staff,  had  already  made 
a  hasty  breakfast  and  departed ;  through  the  open  door 
came  the  mellow  sound  of  bugles  and  the  songs  of  birds, 
but  within  were  irrepressible  sighs  and  groans.  Mrs.  Whately 
entered  the  spacious  parlor  on  the  floor  of  which  Confeder- 
ate officers  lay  as  close  as  space  for  attendance  upon  them 
permitted.  The  young  girl  paused  on  the  threshold  and 
looked  around  with  a  pitying,  tearful  face.  A  white-haired 
colonel  was  almost  at  her  feet.  As  he  looked  up  and  recog- 
nized her  expression,  a  pleased  smile  illumined  his  wan,  drawn 
face.     "  Don't  be  frightened,  my  child,"  he  said  gently. 

The  swift  glance  of  her  secured  attention  took  in  his  con- 
dition. His  right  arm  was  gone  and  he  appeared  ghastly 
from  loss  of  blood.  In  her  deep  emotion  she  dropped  on 
her  knees  beside  him,  took  his  cold  hand  and  kissed  it  as 
she  said,  "  Please  let  me  help  you  and  others  get  well." 

The  old  man  was  strongly  touched  by  her  unexpected 
action,  and  he  faltered,  "  Well,  my  child,  you  make  us  all 
feel  that  our  Southern  girls  are  worth  fighting  for  and,  if 
need  be,  dying  for.  Yes,  you  can  help  us,  some  of  us,  in 
our  dying  perhaps,  as  well  as  in  our  mending.  My  battles 
are  over.  You  can  help  best  by  caring  for  younger,  stronger 
men." 

"  Such  men  will  not  begrudge  you  any  thing,  sir." 

"  Bravo  !  "  cried  half  a  dozen  voices,  and  an  officer  near 


228  "MISS  LOU.n 

added,  "  Miss  Baron  speaks  as  well  and  true  as  you  fought, 
Colonel." 

She  looked  hastily  around.  Seeing  many  friendly  smiles 
and  looks  of  honest  good-will  and  admiration  she  rose 
confusedly,  saying,  "  I  must  go  to  work  at  once." 

"  I  think,  Louise,"  said  Mrs.  Whately,  joining  her  in  the 
hall,  "  we  can  accomplish  most  if  we  work  much  together 
and  under  the  directions  of  the  surgeons.  It  is  evident 
from  the  numbers  of  the  wounded  that  time,  strength,  food, 
—  every  thing  will  have  to  be  used  to  the  best  advantage. 
I'm  glad  that  we  both  got  some  sleep  last  night.  Now,  I 
insist.  Before  you  do  a  thing  you  must  have  a  cup  of  hot 
coffee  and  some  nourishing  food  yourself.  The  best  im- 
pulses in  the  world  are  not  equal  to  the  tasks  before  us. 
Indeed,  we  shall  fail  these  poor  men  in  their  sore  need  if  we 
do  not  keep  our  strength.  The  worst  is  yet  to  come.  As 
far  as  you  can,  control  your  feelings,  for  emotion  wears 
faster  than  work.     Let's  first  go  to  the  kitchen." 

Zany  followed  from  the  dining-room  with  her  hands  full 
of  dishes.  She  gave  Miss  Lou  a  swift,  significant  glance, 
and  that  was  all.  Even  she  was  sobered  by  the  scenes  wit- 
nessed that  morning  and  the  thought  of  Chunk's  indefinite 
absence.  Aun'  Suke  sat  dozing  in  a  corner,  absolutely  worn 
out,  and  other  negroes  from  the  quarters  had  been  pressed 
into  the  .  service.  Mrs.  Baron  was  superintending  their 
efforts  to  supply  soup  and  such  articles  of  diet  as  the  sur- 
geons had  ordered.  "  Ole  miss  "  now  shone  to  advantage 
and  had  the  executive  ability  of  a  general.  In  cool,  sharp, 
decisive  tones  she  gave  her  orders,  which  were  obeyed 
promptly  by  assistants  awed  into  forgetfulness  of  every  thing 
else  except  the  great,  solemn  emergency.  All  differences 
had  disappeared  between  the  two  ladies,  and  they  began 
consulting  at  once  how  best  to  meet  the  prolonged  demands 
now  clearly  foreseen. 


A   HOME  A   HOSPITAL.  229 

"The  confusion  and  conflicting  requirements  are  just 
awful,"  said  Mrs.  Baron.  "As  soon  as  possible,  we  must 
bring  about  some  system  and  order.  One  of  the  first  things 
to  do  is  to  get  as  many  provisions  and  delicacies  as  possible 
under  lock  and  key,  especially  the  coffee  and  sugar.  They 
are  going  to  give  out  anyway,  before  long." 

Miss  Lou  stole  away  and  ran  to  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin. 
Soldiers  had  taken  possession  of  it  and  were  cooking  and 
eating  their  breakfasts.  Some  recognized  the  girl  politely 
as  she  stood  at  the  door,  while  others  continued  their  occu- 
pation in  stolid  indifference.  Aun'  Jinkey  rose  tottering 
from  a  corner  and  came  to  the  door-step.  "  You  see  how 
'tis,  honey,"  she  said.  "  Dey  des  gwine  on  ez  ef  I  ain'  yere. 
I  a  hun'erd  yeahs  ol'er  dan  I  wuz  w'en  you  want  sump'n 
ter  hap'n." 

"  Take  courage,  mammy,"  Miss  Lou  whispered.  "  Chunk's 
safe.     Have  you  had  any  breakfast  ?  " 

"  I  can't  eat,  honey,  w'en  ev'y  ting  des  a  whirlin'." 

The  girl  darted  away  and  in  a  few  moments  returned 
with  a  cup  of  coffee.  Entering  the  cabin,  she  said,  "  Fair 
play,  gentlemen.  This  is  my  old  mammy's  cabin  and  this 
her  place  here  in  the  corner  by  the  hearth.  Will  you  do 
me  the  favor  of  being  kind  to  her  and  letting  her  remain 
undisturbed  ?  Then  you  can  use  her  fireplace  all  you 
please." 

The  Southern  soldiers,  understanding  so  well  the  relation 
between  the  girl  and  the  old  woman,  agreed  with  many 
good-natured  protestations,  offering  to  share  with  Aun' 
Jinkey  their  rude  breakfast. 

By  the  time  the  girl  had  returned  to  the  house,  she  found 
that  Zany  and  others  had  prepared  a  second  breakfast  in 
the  dining-room  for  the  family  and  such  of  the  officers 
whose  wounds  were  so  slight  as  to  permit  their  presence  at 
the  table.     Miss  Lou  was  placed  between  her  cousin  and  a 


230  "MISS  LOU." 

young,  dark-eyed  officer  who  was  introduced  as  Captain 
Maynard.     He  also  carried  his  left  arm  in  a  sling. 

Mrs.  Whately  sat  in  Mr.  Baron's  place,  since  he,  after  a 
night's  vigils,  had  retired  to  obtain  a  little  sleep.  "  Louise," 
said  the  lady,  "  you  will  have  to  begin  being  useful  at  once. 
You  have  a  disabled  man  on  either  side  of  you  for  whom 
you  must  prepare  food." 

"  Miss  Baron,"  said  Captain  Maynard  gallantly,  "  I  am 
already  more  than  reconciled  to  my  wound.  Any  thing  that 
you  prepare  for  me  will  be  ambrosia." 

Whately  frowned  as  he  heard  these  words  and  saw  the 
immediate  impression  made  by  his  cousin  upon  his  brother 
officer ;  but  a  warning  glance  from  his  mother  led  him  to 
vie  in  compliments.  Before  very  long  Maynard  remarked 
soto  voce,  "  If  you  aid  in  healing  the  wounds  made  by  the 
Yanks,  Miss  Baron,  who  will  heal  the  wounds  you  make  ?  " 

"  I  shall  not  make  any,  sir.  Such  thoughts,  even  in  jest, 
wound  me  at  this  time.  Please  excuse  me,  I've  had  all  the 
breakfast  I  wish,  and  I  cannot  rest  till  I  am  doing  something 
for  those  who  are  suffering  so  much." 

He  rose  instantly  and  drew  back  her  chair.  In  sitting 
down  again,  he  encountered  Whately's  eyes,  and  recognized 
the  jealousy  and  anger  already  excited. 


A    TRIBUTE    TO  A   SOUTHERN  GIRL.  23 1 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

A  TRIBUTE  TO   A   SOUTHERN   GIRL. 

MISS  LOU  entered  upon  her  duties  as  hospital  nurse  at 
once.  Untrammelled  even  by  the  knowledge  of  con- 
ventionalities, and  with  the  directness  and  fearlessness  of  a 
brave  child,  she  went  from  one  to  another,  her  diffidence 
quickly  banished  by  her  profound  sympathy.  The  enlisted 
men  on  the  piazzas  received  her  chief  attentions,  nor  was 
she  long  in  discovering  the  Federal  wounded,  crowding  the 
out-buildings  and  offices. 

With  the  exception  of  a  rear-guard  and  hospital  attend- 
ants the  Confederate  forces  had  marched  in  pursuit  of  the 
Union  column.  The  dead  were  buried  during  the  morning 
and  the  ghastlier  evidences  of  strife  removed.  Along  the 
edge  of  the  grove  tents  were  pitched,  some  designed  for  the 
soldiers,  others  for  the  better  accommodation  and  isolation 
of  certain  critical  cases.  The  negroes  performed  most  of 
the  labor,  Uncle  Lusthah  counselling  patience  and  quiet 
acceptance  of  their  lot  for  the  present.  The  prisoners  were 
sent  South.  Confederate  surgeon  Ackley  was  in  charge  of 
the  hospital,  while  upon  Whately  was  conferred  the  military 
command.  His  partial  disablement  would  not  prevent  him 
from  attending  to  the  light  duties  of  the  position,  the  surgeon 
being  practically  the  superior  officer.  Order  was  quickly 
restored,  guards  set  at  important  points,  and  the  strangely 
assorted  little  community  passed  speedily  under  a  simple 
yet  rigorous  military  government.     Curiosity,  desire  of  gain, 


232  "M/SS  LOU." 

as  well  as  sympathy,  led  people  to  flock  to  the  plantation 
from  far  and  near.  One  of  surgeon  Ackley's  first  steps  was 
to  impress  upon  all  the  need  of  provisions,  for  Mr.  Baron's 
larder,  ample  as  it  had  been,  was  speedily  exhausted. 
During  the  day  began  the  transfer  of  the  slightly  wounded 
to  the  nearest  railroad  town,  where  supplies  could  be  ob- 
tained with  more  certainty,  and  it  was  evident  that  the 
policy  of  abandoning  the  remote  plantation  as  soon  as 
possible  had  been  adopted. 

Miss  Lou  knew  nothing  of  this  and  simply  became 
absorbed  in  successive  tasks  for  the  time  being. 

"Miss  Baron,"  said  surgeon  Ackley,  "a  number  of  the 
men  are  so  disabled  that  they  cannot  feed  themselves. 
Proper  food  at  the  right  time  usually  means  life." 

These  words  suggested  what  became  one  of  her  principal 
duties.  At  first,  rough  men  were  surprised  and  grateful 
indeed  to  find  a  fair  young  girl  kneeling  beside  them  with  a 
bowl  of  hot  soup ;  then  they  began  to  look  for  her  and 
welcome  her  as  one  who  evoked  their  best  and  most  chival- 
rous feelings.  It  had  soon  been  evident  to  her  that  the 
wounded  officers  in  the  house  would  receive  the  most  care- 
ful attention  from  the  regularly  appointed  attendants  and 
also  from  Mrs.  Whately.  With  the  exception  of  the  old 
colonel,  she  gradually  began  to  devote  the  most  of  her  time 
to  the  enlisted  men,  finding  among  them  much  less  embar- 
rassment in  her  labors.  With  the  latter  class  among  the 
Confederates,  there  was  not  on  either  side  a  consciousness 
of  social  equality  or  an  effort  to  maintain  its  amenities. 
The  relation  was  the  simple  one  of  kindness  bestowed  and 
received. 

The  girl  made  the  acquaintance  of  the  Union  wounded 
with  feelings  in  which  doubt,  curiosity  and  sympathy  were 
strangely  blended.  Her  regard  for  Scoville  added  to  her 
peculiar  interest  in  his  compatriots.     They  were  the  enemies 


A    TRIBUTE    TO  A   SOUTHERN  GIRL.  233 

of  whom  she  had  heard  so  much,  having  been  represented 
as  more  alien  and  foreign  than  if  they  had  come  across  the 
seas  and  spoke  a  different  tongue.  How  they  would  receive 
her  had  been  an  anxious  query  from  the  first,  but  she  quickly 
learned  that  her  touch  of  kindness  made  them  kin  —  that 
they  welcomed  her  in  the  same  spirit  as  did  her  own  people, 
while  they  also  were  animated  by  like  curiosity  and  wonder- 
ing interest  in  regard  to  herself.  A  woman's  presence  in  a 
field  hospital  was  in  itself  strange  and  unexpected.  That 
this  woman  should  be  a  Southern  girl,  whose  lovely  features 
were  gentle  in  commiseration,  instead  of  rigid  from  an 
imperious  sense  of  duty  to  foes,  was  a  truth  scarcely  ac- 
cepted at  first.  Its  Tuller  comprehension  began  to  evoke 
an  homage  which  troubled  the  girl.  She  was  too  simple 
and  honest  to  accept  such  return  for  what  seemed  the 
natural  offices  of  humanity;  yet,  while  her  manner  and 
words  checked  its  expression,  they  only  deepened  the 
feeling. 

At  first  she  could  scarcely  distinguish  among  the  bronzed, 
begrimed  faces,  but  before  the  day  passed  there  were  those 
whose  needs  and  personal  traits  enlisted  her  special  regard. 
This  was  true  of  one  middle-aged  Union  captain,  to  whom 
at  first  she  had  no  call  to  speak,  for  apparently  he  was  not 
very  seriously  wounded.  Even  before  his  face  was  cleansed 
from  the  smoke  and  dust  of  battle  his  large,  dark  eyes  and 
magnificent  black  beard  caught  her  attention.  Later  on, 
when  feeding  a  helpless  man  near  him,  he  spoke  to  her 
and  held  out  a  photograph.  She  took  it  and  saw  the 
features  of  a  blond  young  girl  scarcely  as  old  as  herself. 

"  My  little  girl,"  said  the  officer  simply.  "  See  how  she 
resembles  her  mother.  That's  one  reason  why  I  so  idolize 
her,"  and  he  handed  Miss  Lou  another  picture,  that  of  a 
sweet,  motherly  face,  to  which  the  former  likeness  bore  the 
resemblance  of  bud  to  blossom. 


234  "MISS  LOU." 

"  We  must  try  to  get  you  well  soon,  so  that  you  may  go 
back  to  them,"  said  Miss  Lou  cordially.  "You  are  not 
seriously  hurt,  I  hope  ?  " 

"  No,  I  think  not.  I  wanted  you  to  see  them  so  you  can 
imagine  how  they  will  look  when  I  tell  them  about  you. 
I  don't  need  to  be  reminded  of  my  little  Sadie,  but  I  almost 
see  her  when  you  come  among  us,  and  I  think  her  blue  eyes 
would  have  much  the  same  expression  as  yours.  God  bless 
you,  for  you  are  blessing  those  whom  you  regard  as  your 
enemies.     We  don't  look  very  hostile  though,  do  we? " 

"  It  seems  a  terrible  mistake  that  you  should  be  here  at 
all  as  enemies,"  she  replied.  "  I  have  been  taught  to  dread 
your  coming  more  than  if  you  were  Indians.  I  never  can 
understand  why  men  who  carry  such  pictures  as  these  next 
their  heart  can  fight  against  us." 

"  Well,  Miss  Baron,  you  must  try  to  believe  that  we  would 
not  have  left  the  dear  originals  of  such  pictures  unless  we 
had  felt  we  must,  and  there  let  the  question  rest.  Our  lives 
are  sweet  to  us,  although  we  risk  them,  chiefly  because  so 
dear  to  those  at  home.  Let  the  thought  cheer  you  in  your 
work  that  you  are  keeping  tears  from  eyes  as  good  and  kind 
as  your  own.  That's  another  reason  why  I  showed  you  the 
likenesses." 

"  It  will  be  but  another  motive,"  she  said.  "  A  suffering 
man,  whether  friend  or  enemy,  is  enough." 

She  smiled  as  she  spoke,  then  picked  her  way  across  the 
wide  barn-floor  and  disappeared.  Every  eye  followed  her, 
pain  all  forgotten  for  the  moment. 

"  By  G — d  ! "  exclaimed  a  rough  fellow,  drawing  his 
sleeve  across  his  eyes,  "  I'm  hard  hit,  but  I'll  crawl  to  and 
choke  the  first  man  who  says  a  word  she  oughtn't  to  hear 
when  she's  around." 

"If  you  can  keep  your  own  tongue  civil,  Yarry,  you'll 
have  your  hands  full,"  said  a  comrade. 


A    TRIBUTE    TO   A   SOUTHERN  GIRL.  2 35 

"  Well,  I  be  blankety  blank-blanked  if  that  girl  doesn't 
rout  the  devil  out  of  a  fellow,  hoof  and  horns." 

"  You're  right,  my  man,"  said  the  Union  captain,  "  and 
your  feelings  do  you  credit.  Now  I  have  a  suggestion  to 
make.  Not  one  of  us  is  capable  of  using  a  word  before  her 
that  she  shouldn't  hear,  if  not  out  of  our  heads.  We  can 
pay  her  a  better  tribute  than  that.  Let  us  decide  to  speak 
in  her  absence  as  if  she  were  present.  That's  about  all  we 
can  do  in  return  for  her  kindness.  She  won't  know  the  cost 
to  us  in  breaking  habits,  but  we  will,  and  that's  better.  We 
all  feel  that  we'd  like  to  spill  some  more  of  our  blood  for  the 
girl  who  fed  Phillips  yonder  as  if  he  were  a  baby.  Well,  let 
us  do  the  only  thing  we  can  — speak  as  if  our  mothers 
heard  us  all  the  time,  for  this  girl's  sake." 

"I  be  blanked  if  I  don't  agree,  and  may  the  devil  fly 
away  with  the  man  who  doesn't,"  cried  Yarry. 

"  Ah,  Yarry,"  said  the  captain,  laughing,  "  you'll  have  the 
hardest  row  of  any  of  us  to  hoe.  We'll  have  to  let  you  off 
for  some  slips." 

Then  began  among  the  majority  a  harder  fight  than  that 
for  life  —  a  fight  with  inveterate  habit,  an  effort  to  change 
vernacular,  almost  as  difficult  as  the  learning  of  a  new 
language.  For  some  time  Miss  Lou  did  not  know  nor 
understand.  Word  had  been  passed  to  other  and  smaller 
groups  of  the  Union  wounded  in  other  buildings.  The 
pledge  was  soon  known  as  "A  Northern  Tribute  to  a 
Southern  Girl."  It  was  entered  into  with  enthusiasm  and 
kept  with  a  pathetic  effort  which  many  will  not  understand. 
Yarry  positively  began  to  fail  under  the  restraint  he  imposed 
upon  himself.  His  wound  caused  him  agony,  and  profanity 
would  have  been  his  natural  expression  of  even  slight  annoy- 
ance. All  day  long  grisly  oaths  rose  to  his  lips.  Now  and 
then  an  excruciating  twinge  would  cause  a  half-uttered  ex- 
pletive to  burst  forth  like  a  projectile.     A  deep  groan  would 


236  "MISS  LOU." 

follow,  as  the  man  became  rigid  in  his  struggle  for  self- 
control. 

"  Yarry,"  cried  Captain  Hanfield,  who  had  suggested  the 
pledge,  "  let  yourself  go,  for  God's  sake.  You  have  shown 
more  heroism  to-day  than  I  in  all  my  life.  We  will  make 
you  an  exception  and  put  you  on  parole  to  hold  in  only 
while  Miss  Baron  is  here." 

"I  be  —  oh,  blank  it !  This  is  going  to  be  the  death  of 
me,  boys.  The  Rebs  gave  me  hell  with  this  wound.  But 
for  God's  sake  don't  let  her  know.  Just  let  her  think  I'm 
civil  like  the  rest  of  you.  Wouldn't  she  open  them  blue 
eyes  if  she  knew  a  man  was  dyin',  just  holdin'  in  cussin'  on 
her  account.  Ha,  ha,  ha !  She'd  think  I  was  a  sort  of  a 
Yankee  devil,  worse  than  the  Injins  she  expected.  Don't 
let  her  know.  I'll  be  quiet  enough  before  long.  Then  like 
enough  she'd  look  at  me  and  say,  '  Poor  fellow !  he  won't 
make  any  more  trouble.'  " 

Whately  had  a  busy  day  and  felt  that  he  had  a  reputation 
to  regain.  He  therefore  bravely  endured  much  physical 
pain  in  his  arm  and  gave  very  close  attention  to  duty. 
Captain  Maynard,  on  the  contrary,  had  nothing  to  do,  and 
his  wound  was  only  severe  enough  to  make  him  restless. 
The  young  girl  whom  he  had  met  at  breakfast  at  once  became 
by  far  the  most  interesting  subject  for  thought  and  object  of 
observation.  He  was  a  young  fellow  of  the  ordinary  roman- 
tic type,  hasty,  susceptible,  as  ready  to  fight  as  to  eat,  and 
possessed  of  the  idea  that  the  way  to  win  a  girl  was  to  appear 
her  smitten,  abject  slave.  The  passing  hours  were  ages  to 
him  in  contrast  to  his  previous  activity,  and  as  he  watched 
Miss  Lou  going  about  on  her  errands  of  mercy  he  quickly 
passed  from  one  stage  to  another  of  admiration  and  ideal- 
ization. Remembering  the  look  that  Whately  had  given 
him  in  the  morning,  he  maintained  a  distant  attitude  at 
first,  thinking  his  brother  officer  had  claims  which  he  must 


A    TRIBUTE    TO  A   SOUTHERN  GIRL.  237 

respect.  As  he  wandered  uneasily  around,  however,  he  dis- 
covered virtually  how  matters  stood,  and  learned  of  the 
attempt  which  Whately  had  made  to  marry  his  cousin, 
nolens  volens.  This  fact  piqued  his  interest  deeply  and 
satisfied  him  that  the  way  was  clear  for  a  suit  on  his  part 
were  he  so  inclined.  Fair  rivalry  would  give  only  additional 
zest  and  he  promptly  yielded  to  his  inclination  to  become 
at  least  much  better  acquainted  with  the  girl.  At  dinner 
he  and  Whately  vied  in  their  gallantries,  but  she  was  too  sad 
and  weary  to  pay  much  attention  to  either  of  them. 

Mrs.  Whately  compelled  her  to  lie  down  for  a  time  during 
the  heat  of  the  afternoon,  but  thoughts  of  the  suffering  all 
about  her  banished  power  to  rest.  She  went  down  and 
found  the  old  colonel  lying  with  closed  eyes,  feebly  trying 
to  keep  away  the  pestering  flies.  Remembering  the  bunch 
of  peacock  feathers  with  which  Zany,  in  old  monotonous  days, 
had  waved  when  waiting  on  the  table,  she  obtained  it  from 
the  dining-room,  and  sitting  down  noiselessly  by  the  officer, 
gave  him  a  respite  from  his  tormentors.  In  his  drowsiness 
he  did  not  open  his  eyes,  but  passed  into  quiet  sleep.  The 
girl  maintained  her  watch,  putting  her  finger  to  her  lips  and 
making  signals  for  silence  to  all  who  came  near.  Other 
Confederate  officers  observed  her  wistfully ;  Mad  Whately, 
coming  in,  looked  at  her  frowningly.  His  desire  and  pur- 
pose towards  his  cousin  had  been  that  of  entire  self-appro- 
priation and  now  she  was  becoming  the  cynosure  of  many 
eyes.  Among  them  he  saw  those  of  Captain  Maynard,  who 
was  already  an  object  of  hate.  Little  recked  the  enamoured 
captain  of  this  fact.  To  his  ardent  fancy  the  girl  was  rapidly 
becoming  ideal  in  goodness  and  beauty.  With  the  ready 
egotism  of  the  young  he  was  inclined  to  believe  that  fate 
had  brought  about  the  events  which  had  revealed  to  him  the 
woman  he  should  marry.  A  bombshell  bursting  among  them 
all  would   not  have  created  a  greater  sensation  than  the 


238  "MISS  LOU." 

knowledge  that  the  girl's  thoughts  were  following  a  Yankee, 
one  whom  she  herself,  by  daring  stratagem,  had  released 
from  captivity. 

A  twinge  of  pain  awakened  the  colonel  and  he  looked  up, 
dazed  and  uncomprehending.  Miss  Lou  bent  over  him  and 
said  gently,  "  Go  to  sleep  again.     It's  all  right." 

"  Oh,  I  remember  now.     You  are  Miss  Baron." 

"Yes,  but  don't  try  to  talk;  just  sleep  now  that  you 
can." 

He  smiled  and  yielded. 

A  few  moments  later  Maynard  came  forward  and  said, 
"  Miss  Baron,  your  arm  must  be  tired.  Let  me  take  your 
place." 

Now  she  rewarded  him  by  a  smile.  "  I  will  be  glad  if 
you  can,"  she  replied  softly,  "  not  that  I  am  very  tired,  but 
there  are  so  many  others." 

As  she  moved  away,  she  saw  surgeon  Ackley  beckoning  to 
her.  "  Miss  Baron,"  he  said,  "I  am  going  to  put  one  of  my 
patients  especially  in  your  and  your  aunt's  charge.  Young 
as  he  is,  he  is  a  hero  and  an  unusual  character.  I  have  had 
him  moved  to  a  tent,  for  he  is  in  a  very  critical  condition. 
Indeed,  his  chances  for  life  are  few  and  he  knows  it.  I  am 
acquainted  with  his  family  —  one  of  the  best  in  the  South." 

He  led  the  way  to  a  small  tent  beneath  the  shade  of  a 
wide-branched  oak.  A  stretcher  had  been  extemporized 
into  a  camp-bed  and  on  it  lay  a  youth  not  older  apparently 
than  the  girl  herself.  His  face  had  the  blood-drained  look 
which  many  will  remember,  yet  was  still  fine  in  its  strong, 
boyish  lines.  The  down  on  his  upper  lip  was  scarcely  more 
deeply  defined  than  his  straight  eyebrows.  A  negro  attend- 
ant sat  near  fanning  him,  and  Miss  Lou  first  thought  he  was 
asleep.  As  she  approached  with  the  surgeon  he  opened  his 
eyes  with  the  dazed  expression  so  common  when  the  brain 
is  enfeebled  from  loss  of  blood.    At  first  they  seemed 


A    TRIBUTE    TO  A   SOUTHERN  GIRL.  239 

almost  opaque  and  dead  in  their  blackness,  but,  as  if  a  light 
were  approaching  from  within,  they  grew  bright  and  laugh- 
ing. His  smile  showed  his  white,  even  teeth  slightly,  and 
her  look  of  deep  commiseration  passed  into  one  of  wonder 
as  she  saw  his  face  growing  positively  radiant  with  what 
seemed  to  her  a  strange  kind  of  happiness,  as  he  glanced 
back  and  forth  from  her  to  the  surgeon.  Feebly  he  raised 
his  finger  to  his  lips  as  if  to  say,  "  I  can't  speak." 

"  That's  right,  Waldo  j  don't  try  to  talk  yet.  This  is  Miss 
Baron.  She  will  be  one  of  your  nurses  and  will  feed  you 
with  the  best  of  soup.     We'll  bring  you  round  yet." 

He  shook  his  head  and  smiled  more  genially,  then  tried 
to  extend  his  hand  to  the  girl,  looking  his  welcome  and  ac- 
ceptance of  her  ministry.  So  joyous  was  his  expression  that 
she  could  not  help  smiling  in  return,  but  it  was  the  question- 
ing, doubtful  smile  of  one  who  did  not  understand. 

"  When  she  comes,"  resumed  Ackley,  "  take  what  she 
gives  you,  but  don't  talk  until  I  give  permission.  That  will 
do  now.  You  must  take  every  thing  except  quiet  in  small 
quantities  at  first." 

His  lips  formed  the  words  "  All  right,"  and  smilingly  he 
watched  them  depart. 

"  I  suppose  he  is  not  exactly  in  his  right  mind,"  said  Miss 
Lou  as  she  and  the  surgeon  returned  to  the  house. 

"  Many  would  think  so,  I  reckon,"  replied  Ackley  laconi- 
cally. "  He  believes  in  a  heaven  and  that  he's  going  there. 
That's  the  only  queer  thing  I  ever  discovered  in  Waldo. 
He's  worth  a  lot  of  trouble,  Miss  Baron." 

"  Jt  would  be  right  strange  if  I  did  not  do  my  best  for 
him,  sir." 

"  I  thought  you'd  feel  so.  I  want  very  strong  beef  soup 
made  for  a  few  such  special  cases,  who  can  take  but  little 
at  a  time.  I  would  like  him  to  have  a  few  teaspoonfuls 
every  two  hours.     I  am   going   to  trust  to  you   and   Mrs. 


24O  "MISS  LOU." 

Whately  chiefly  to  look  after  him  in  this  respect.    We  can 
do  little  more  than  help  nature  in  his  case." 

Poor  Aun'  Suke  was  getting  weary  again,  but  she  had  a 
heart  which  Miss  Lou  speedily  touched  in  behalf  of  her 
patient,  and  a  special  saucepan  was  soon  bubbling  over  the 
fire. 

The  soup  for  the  evening  meal  being  ready,  she  began 
again  her  task  of  feeding  the  helpless  soldiers,  visiting, 
among  others,  Phillips,  who  lay  in  a  half-stupor  on  the  great 
barn-floor.  As  she  stepped  in  among  the  Federal  wounded, 
she  was  again  impressed  by  the  prevailing  quiet  and  by  the 
friendly  glances  turned  towards  her  on  every  side.  The 
Union  surgeon  in  charge  lifted  his  hat  politely,  while  such 
of  the  men  as  were  able  took  off*  theirs  and  remained  uncov- 
ered. The  homage,  although  quiet,  was  so  marked  that  she 
was  again  embarrassed,  and  with  downcast  eyes  went  direct 
to  Phillips,  gently  roused  him  and  gave  him  his  supper. 
While  she  was  doing  this  the  men  around  her  were  either 
silent  or  spoke  in  low  tones.  The  thought  grew  in  her  mind, 
"  How  these  Northern  soldiers  have  been  misrepresented  to 
me  !  Even  when  I  am  approaching  and  before  they  are  aware 
I  am  near,  I  hear  no  rough  talk  as  I  do  among  our  men. 
The  world  is  so  different  from  uncle's  idea  of  it !  Whether 
these  men  are  right  or  wrong,  I  will  never  listen  patiently 
again  when  they  are  spoken  of  as  the  scum  of  the  earth." 

As  she  rose  and  saw  the  respectful  attitude  towards  her, 
she  faltered,  "I  —  I  —  wish  to  thank  you  for  your  —  your 
kindness  to  me." 

I  At  these  words  there  was  a  general  smile  even  on  the 
'  wannest  and  most  pain-pinched  face,  for  they  struck  the  men 
as  very  droll. 

"We  were  under  the  impression  that  the  kindness  was 
chiefly  on  your  side,"  said  Captain  Hanfield.  "  Still  we  are 
glad  you  find  us  a  civil  lot  of  Indians." 


A    TRIBUTE    TO  A   SOUTHERN  GIRL.  24 1 

"  Please  remember,"  she  answered  earnestly,  "  that  was 
not  my  thought,  but  one  impressed  upon  me  by  those  who 
did  not  know.  Only  within  a  very  short  time  have  I  ever 
seen  Northern  people  or  soldiers,  and  they  treat  me  with 
nothing  but  courtesy." 

"  Perhaps  you  are  to  blame  for  that,"  said  the  captain 
pleasantly. 

"  I  can't  help  feeling  glad  that  our  good  opinion  is 
becoming  mutual,"  she  replied,  smiling.  "  Won't  you  please 
put  on  your  hats  and  let  me  come  and  go  as  a  matter  of 
course?  I  don't  like  to  be  sort  of  received  every  time 
I  come.     I  just  want  to  help  those  I  can  help,  to  get  well." 

"You  have  only  to  express  your  wishes,  Miss  Baron,"  was 
the  hearty  reply. 

"  Thank  you.  Is  there  anything  more  that  I  can  do  for 
you?     Is  there  any  one  who  specially  needs  "  — 

As  she  was  glancing  round  her  eyes  fell  upon  Yarry.  His 
face  was  so  drawn  and  haggard  with  pain  that,  from  an  im- 
pulse of  pity,  she  went  directly  to  him  and  said  gently,  "  I 
fear,  sir,  you  are  suffering  very  much." 

"I  be  —  oh,  hang  —  there,  there,  miss,  I'll  stand  it  a  little 
longer.  I  could  stand  hell-fire  for  your  sake.  I  didn't 
mean  to  say  that.     Guess  I  better  keep  still." 

His  face,  now  seen  attentively,  revealed  more  to  her 
intuition  than  his  words.  She  stooped  by  his  side  and  said 
piteously,  "  Oh,  you  are  suffering  —  I  feel  that  you  are 
suffering  terribly.     I  must  do  something  to  relieve  you." 

"  Oh,  now,  miss,"  he  replied,  forcing  a  ghastly  sort  of 

smile,  "  I'm  all  right,  I  be well,  1  am.     Bless  your  kind 

heart !  '  Don't  worry  about  me.  I'll  smoke  my  pipe  and 
go  to   sleep   pretty  soon.     You  look   tired   yourself,   little 

one.    I  will  feel  better  if  you  won't  worry  about  me,  I  be 

well,  I  will.     I'm  just  like  the  other  fellows,  you  know." 

"  I  reckon  you  are  a  brave,  good- hearted  man,  to  think 


242  "MISS  LOU." 

of  others  when  I  know  you  are  suffering  so  much.  I  am 
having  very  strong  soup  made  for  one  of  our  men,  and  I'll 
bring  you  some  by  and  by,"  and  with  a  lingering,  troubled 
look  into  his  rugged  face,  she  departed. 

His  eyes  followed  her  until  she  disappeared. 

"  Yarry,  you  are  rewarded,"  Captain  Hanfield  remarked. 

" my  reward.     Fellers,  she's  just  wearin'  herself  out 

for  us.  I  don't  want  no  reward  for  anything  I  can  do  for 
her.  Well,  I'm  goin'  to  shut  up  now.  The  only  thing  I  can 
do  for  her  is  to  hold  my  tongue  till  it  can't  wag.     I  told  her 

I'd  smoke  my  pipe  and  go  to  sleep.     I  be well,  I  will. 

Light  it  for  me,  Tom.  When  she  comes,  like  enough  I'll 
be  asleep,  a  sort  of  dead  sleep,  yer  know.  Just  let  her 
think  I'm  dozin'  after  my  pipe.  Don't  let  her  try  to  wake 
me  and  worry  about  me." 

"All  shall  be  as  you  wish,  Yarry,"  said  Captain  Hanfield. 
"  I  tell  you,  men,  few  women  ever  received  such  a  tribute 
as  Yarry  is  paying  this  Southern  girl.  For  one,  I'm  proud 
of  him." 


A   BACKGROUND   OF  EGOTISM.  243 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

A   BACKGROUND   OF  EGOTISM. 

WHEN  Miss  Lou  returned  to  the  house  supper  was 
ready  and  she  sat  down  weary,  saddened  and  pre- 
occupied by  the  scenes  she  had  witnessed. 

"  You  are  going  beyond  your  strength,"  said  Captain  May- 
nard,  who  had  watched  her  coming  back  from  the  Federal 
wounded.  "  Cannot  you  be  content  to  confine  your  ministra- 
tions to  your  friends  only?" 

"  For  once  I  can  agree  with  Captain  Maynard,"  Whately 
added  stiffly.  "  I  don't  think  it's  right  for  you,  cousin,  to 
be  going  among  those  rough,  brutal  fellows." 

Instantly  her  anger  flamed  at  the  injustice  of  the  remark 
and  she  answered  hotly,  "  I've  found  no  rough,  brutal  fel- 
lows among  the  Yankees." 

All  smiled  at  her  words,  and  Ackley  remarked  to  one  of 
the  Union  surgeons,  "  Dr.  Borden,  I  thought  our  men  could 
hold  their  own  pretty  well  with  the  Army  in  Flanders,  but 
you  Yanks,  I  reckon,  surpass  all  military  organizations,  past 
or  present.  There  was  one  man  especially  who  fairly  made 
the  night  lurid  and  left  a  sulphurous  odor  after  him  when  he 
was  brought  in.  It  would  be  rather  rough  on  us  all  if  we 
were  where  he  consigned  us  with  a  vim  that  was  startling. 
I  certainly  hope  that  Miss  Baron  is  not  compelled  to  hear 
any  such  language." 

"I  appeal  to  Miss  Baron  herself,"  said  Dr.  Borden,  "if 
she  has  been  offended  in  this  respect  to-day?" 


244  "MISS  LOU." 

"  No  indeed,  I  have  not,"  replied  the  girl  indignantly. 
"  I  never  was  treated  with  more  courtesy.  I  have  not 
heard  a  rough  word  from  the  Yankees  even  when  they  did 
not  know  I  was  near,  and  that  is  more  than  I  can  say  of  our 
own  men.  Fight  the  Yankees  all  you  please,  but  don't  do 
them  injustice." 

In  spite  of  the  girl's  flushed,  incensed  face,  there  was  an 
explosion  of  laughter.  "  Pardon  me,  Miss  Baron,"  said 
Ackley,  "  but  you  can't  know  how  droll  your  idea  of  injus- 
tice to  the  Yankees  seems  to  us.  That  you  have  such  an 
idea,  however,  is  a  credit  to  you  and  to  them  also,  for  they 
must  have  been  behaving  themselves  prodigiously." 

"  Yes,  Dr.  Ackley,"  replied  Borden  emphatically,  "  Miss 
Baron's  impressions  are  a  credit  to  her  and  to  my  patients. 
They  promptly  recognized  her  motives  and  character,  and 
for  her  sake  they  pledged  themselves  that  while  here,  where 
she  is  one  of  the  nurses,  they  would  not  use  language  at  any 
time  which  they  would  not  have  their  mothers  hear.  That 
very  man  you  speak  of,  who  swore  so  last  night,  believes 
himself  dying  from  his  effort  at  self-restraint.  This  is  not 
true,  for  he  would  have  died  anyhow,  but  his  death  is  has- 
tened by  his  effort.  He  has  been  in  agony  all  day.  Opiates 
make  him  worse,  so  there  is  no  use  of  giving  them.  But  I 
can  tell  you,  no  man  in  your  Confederacy  ever  did  a  braver 
thing  than  he  is  doing  this  minute  to  show  his  respect  for 
this  young  lady  who  has  shown  kindness  to  his  comrades. 
I  can  assure  you,  Lieutenant  Whately,  that  you  need  have  no 
fears  about  your  cousin  when  visiting  my  patients." 

" What's  the  name  of  the  soldier  of  whom  you  speak?" 
Miss  Lou  asked  eagerly. 

"  He  is  called  Yarry.  I  don't  know  any  other  name  yet 
—  been  so  busy  dressing  wounds." 

"  Thank  you,"  faltered  the  girl,  rising,  her  face  showing 
signs  of  strong  emotion. 


A   BACKGROUND   OF  EGOTISM.  24$ 

"  O  Louise  !  finish  your  supper,"  expostulated  Mrs.  Whate- 
ly.  "You  must  not  let  these  scenes  take  so  strong  a  hold" 
—  but  she  was  out  of  hearing.  "I  fear  it's  all  going  to  be 
too  much  for  her,"  sighed  the  lady  in  conclusion. 

Mr.  Baron  and  his  wife  exchanged  grim  glances  from  the 
head  and  foot  of  the  table,  as  much  as  to  say,  "  She  has 
shaken  off  our  control  and  we  are  not  responsible,"  but 
Ackley  remarked,  "  I  agree  with  you,  Dr.  Borden,  that  it's 
fine  to  see  a  girl  show  such  a  spirit,  and  I  congratulate  you 
that  your  men  are  capable  of  appreciating  it.  By  the  way, 
Mrs.  Whately,  I  have  put  her,  with  you,  in  charge  of  young 
Waldo  and  truly  hope  that  among  us  we  can  bring  him 
through." 

"  Mrs.  Whately,"  said  Captain  Maynard,  "  I  reckon  more 
than  one  of  us  begin  to  regret  already  that  we  were  not  so 
desperately  wounded  as  to  need  your  attention  and  that  of 
Miss  Baron.  We  must  remember,  however,  that  she  is  not 
accustomed  to  these  scenes,  and  I  think  we  must  try  to  make 
her  forget  them  at  the  table.  I  suppose  in  the  kindness  of 
her  heart  she  is  now  crying  in  her  room  over  that  Yankee." 

Whately  shot  a  savage  glance  at  the  speaker  which  plainly 
implied,  "  It's  none  of  your  business  where  she  is."  Sud- 
denly rising,  he  departed  also,  his  mother's  eyes  following 
him  anxiously. 

Miss  Lou  was  not  crying  in  her  room.  As  the  level  rays 
of  the  sun  shone  into  the  wide  old  barn,  making  the  straw 
in  a  mow  doubly  golden,  and  transforming  even  the  dusty 
cobwebs  into  fairy  lacework,  she  crossed  the  threshold  and 
paused  for  the  first  time  in  her  impulsive  haste  to  find  and 
thank  the  dying  man  of  whom  she  had  been  told.  All  eyes 
turned  wonderingly  towards  her  as  she  stood  for  a  moment 
in  the  sunshine,  as  unconscious  of  herself,  of  the  marvellous 
touch  of  beauty  bestowed  by  the  light  and  her  expression, 
as  if  she  had  flown  from  the  skies. 


246  "MISS  LOU.n 

"Is  there  a  soldier  here  named  Yarry?"  she  began,  then 
uttered  a  little  inarticulate  cry  as  she  saw  Captain  Hanfield 
kneeling  beside  a  man  to  whom  all  eyes  directed  her.  "  Oh, 
it's  he,"  she  sobbed,  kneeling  beside  him  also.  "  As  soon  as 
I  heard  I  felt  it  was  he  who  told  me  not  to  worry  about  him. 
Is  —  is  he  really  dying?  " 

"  Yes,  I  hope  so,  Miss  Baron,"  replied  the  captain  gravely. 
"  He  couldn't  live  and  it's  time  he  had  rest." 

The  girl  bent  over  the  man,  her  hot  tears  falling  on  his 
face.  He  opened  his  eyes  and  looked  vacantly  at  her  for  a 
moment  or  two,  then  smiled  in  recognition.  It  was  the 
most  pathetic  smile  she  had  ever  imagined.  "  Don't  worry," 
he  whispered,  "  I'm  just  dozin'  off." 

"  O  my  poor,  brave  hero  !  "  she  said  brokenly,  "  I  know, 
I  know  it  all.     God  reward  you,  I  can't." 

"  Don't  want  no  reward.  I  be  —  say,  miss,  don't  wear  — 
yourself —  out  fer  us." 

She  took  his  cold  hand  and  bowed  her  forehead  upon  it, 
sobbing  aloud  in  the  overpowering  sense  of  his  self-forget- 
fulness.  "  O  God  !  "  she  cried,  "  do  for  this  brave,  unselfish 
man  what  I  cannot.  When,  when  can  I  forget  such  a  thing 
as  this  !  Oh,  live,  please  live ;  we  will  take  such  good  care 
of  you." 

"There,  there,  little  one,  don't  —  take  on  —  so  about  — 
me.  Ain't  wuth  it.  I  be  —  .  Say,  I  feel  better  —  easier. 
Glad  —  you  spoke  —  good  word  to  God  —  for  me.  I  be 
—  I  mean,  I  think  —  He'll  hear  —  sech  as  you.  I'm  —  off 
now.     Don't  —  wear  —  yourself"  — 

Even  in  her  inexperience  she  saw  that  he  was  dying,  and 
when  his  gasping  utterance  ceased  she  had  so  supported  his 
head  that  it  fell  back  on  her  bosom.  For  a  few  moments 
she  just  cried  helplessly,  blinded  with  tears.  Then  she 
felt  the  burden  of  his  head  removed  and  herself  lifted 
gently. 


A   BACKGROUND   OF  EGOTISM.  247 

"  I  suspected  something  like  this  when  you  left  the  table, 
Miss  Baron,"  said  Dr.  Borden. 

"  Oh,  oh,  oh,  I  feel  as  if  he  had  died  for  me,"  she  sobbed. 

"  He  would  a  died  for  you,  miss,"  said  Tom,  drawing  his 
sleeve  across  his  eyes,  "  so  would  we  all." 

"  Miss  Baron,"  resumed  the  doctor  gravely,  "  remember 
poor  Yarry's  last  words,  '  Don't  wear  yourself  —  he  couldn't 
finish  the  sentence,  but  you  know  what  he  meant.  You 
must  grant  the  request  of  one  who  tried  to  do  what  he  could 
for  you.  As  a  physician  also  I  must  warn  you  to  rest  until 
morning.  You  can  do  more  for  these  men  and  others  by 
first  doing  as  Yarry  wished,"  and  he  led  her  away. 

They  had  not  gone  far  before  they  met  Uncle  Lusthah. 
The  girl  stopped  and  said,  "  Doctor,  won't  you  let  Uncle 
Lusthah  bury  him  to-morrow  down  by  the  run?  I'll  show 
him  the  place." 

"Yes,  Miss  Baron,  we  all  will  do  anything  you  wish  if 
you  only  rest  to-night.  I  tell  you  frankly  you  endanger 
yourself  and  your  chance  to  do  anything  more  for  the 
wounded  by  continuing  the  strain  which  these  scenes  put 
upon  you." 

"  I  reckon  you're  right,"  she  said,  "  I  feel  as  if  I  could 
hardly  stand." 

"  I  know.    Take  my  arm  and  go  at  once  to  your  room." 

On  the  way  they  encountered  Whately.  "  Cousin  !  where 
on  earth  have  you  been  ?    You  look  ready  to  faint." 

His  presence  and  all  that  he  implied  began  to  steady  her 
nerves  at  once,  but  she  made  no  reply. 

"  She  has  witnessed  a  painful  scene,  Lieutenant,"  began 
the  surgeon. 

"You  have  no  business  to  permit  her  to  witness  such 
scenes,"  Whately  interrupted  sternly.  "You  should  see  that 
she's  little  more  than  an  inexperienced  child  and  "  — 

"  Hush,  sir,"  said  Miss  Lou.     "  Who  has  given  you  the 


248  "MISS  LOU." 

right  to  dictate  to  me  or  to  this  gentleman?  I'm  in  no 
mood  for  any  more  such  words,  cousin.  To-day,  at  least, 
no  one  has  taken  advantage  of  my  inexperience.  Good- 
evening,"  and  she  passed  on,  leaving  him  chafing  in  impa- 
tient anger  and  protest. 

At  the  house  Mrs.  Whately  began  expostulations  also,  but 
the  girl  said,  "  Please  don't  talk  to  me  now.  By  and  by 
I  will  tell  you  what  will  touch  all  the  woman  in  your  heart." 

"  I  earnestly  suggest,"  added  Dr.  Borden,  "  that  you  take 
Miss  Baron  to  her  room  and  that  nothing  more  be  said  to 
disturb  her.  She  is  overwrought  and  has  reached  the  limit 
of  endurance." 

The  lady  had  the  tact  to  acquiesce  at  once.  After  reach- 
ing her  room  Miss  Lou  exclaimed,  "  But  I  have  not  been 
to  young  Waldo." 

"I  have,"  replied  her  aunt,  "and  will  see  him  again  more 
than  once  before  I  retire.  Louise,  if  you  would  not  become  a 
burden  yourself  at  this  time  you  must  do  as  the  doctor  says." 

Within  an  hour  the  girl  was  sleeping  and  her  nature 
regaining  the  strength  and  elasticity  of  youth. 

As  Whately  stood  fuming  where  his  cousin  had  left  him, 
Perkins  approached  for  the  first  time  since  they  had  parted 
in  anger  the  night  before. 

"  I  reck'n  Miss  Baron's  gone  over  ter  the  inemy," 
remarked  the  overseer. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  " 

"  Look  yere,  Leftenant,  what's  the  use  o'  you  bein'  so 
gunpowdery  with  me  ?  What's  the  use,  I  say  ?  I  mout  be 
of  some  use  ter  you  ef  you  wuz  civil." 

"Of  what  use  were  you  last  night?  You  allowed  my 
prisoner  to  be  carried  off  right  under  your  nose." 

"  Who  carried  'im  off?    Answer  that." 

"  Why,  some  gawk  of  a  Yank  that  you  were  too  stupid  to 
tell  from  me." 


A   BACKGROUND   OF  EGOTISM.  249 

"  P'raps  hit  was,  p'raps  hit  wasn't." 

"Who  else  could  it  be?" 

"  I  s'picion  who  it  was,  but  I'm  not  goin'  ter  talk  to  one 
who's  got  nothin'  better  to  give  me  'n  uggly  words." 

"You  don't  mean  to  say "  — 

"  I  don't  mean  to  say  nothin'  till  I  know  who  I'm  talkin' 
ter." 

Whately  gave  a  long,  low  whistle  and  then  muttered 
"  Impossible  !  " 

"  Oh,  sut'ny,"  remarked  Perkins  ironically. 

The  two  men  gave  each  other  a  long  searching  look ; 
then  Perkins  resumed,  "  That's  right,  Leftenant,  take  yer 
bearin's.  I  don't  see  ez  you  kin  do  me  any  special  good, 
ner  harm  nuther.  Ef  yer  want  no  news  or  help  from  me, 
we  kin  sheer  off  right  yere  en  now." 

"  I  say  your  suspicion  is  absurd,"  resumed  Whately,  as  if 
arguing  with  himself.  "  When  the  alarm,  caused  by  firing, 
came  last  night,  it  happened  she  was  in  her  room  and  was 
badly  frightened." 

"  What  time  did  the  alarm  happen?" 

"  About  two  o'clock." 

"  Wal,  about  midnight  a  figger  that  favored  you  'mazingly, 
yes,  ter  yer  very  walk,  came  up  boldly  en  sez  ter  me,  nod- 
ding at  the  Yank,  '  Leave  'im  ter  me.'  The  figger  wasn't 
jes'  dressed  like  you  in  'Federate  uniform,  but  I  kin  a'most 
swear  the  figger  had  on  them  clo's  and  that  hat  you're 
a  wearin'  now;  arm  in  sling,  too.  What's  mo',  when  I 
thought  hit  over  I  was  cock  sure  the  figger  wuz  shorter'n 
you  air.  I  don't  believe  there's  a  Yank  livin'  that  could 
a  fooled  me  last  night,  'less  he  had  yer  clo's  on  en  yer 
walk." 

"  My  uniform  and  hat  hung  on  the  chairs  beside  me,  just 
where  they  had  been  put  when  I  went  to  sleep." 

"Jes'  tell  me  ef  the  do'  o'  yer  room  wuz  locked." 


250  "MISS  LOU." 

"  I  wasn't  in  a  room.     I  slept  at  the  end  of  the  hall." 

"  Then  enybody  could  git  'em  en  put  'em  back  while  you 
wuz  asleep." 

"  She  couldn't  knock  you  senseless.    You're  talking  wild." 

"  I've  schemed  that  out.  Thar's  tracks  in  the  gyardin 
not  so  blinded  but  they  kin  give  a  hint  ter  a  blind  hoss. 
Thar's  a  track  nigh  whar  I  fell  mighty  like  what  that  infernal 
nigger  Chunk  ud  make.  Beyond,  ez  ef  some  uns  had 
hidden  in  the  bushes,  right  in  the  gyarden  bed,  air  two  little 
woman-like  tracks  en  two  men  tracks." 

Whately  ground  his  teeth  and  muttered  an  oath. 

"  I  don't  'spose  I  kin  prove  any  thing  'elusive,"  resumed 
Perkins,  "  en  I  don't  'spose  it  ud  be  best  ef  I  could.  Ef 
she  was  up  ter  such  deviltry,  of  co'se  you  don't  want  hit 
gen'ly  known.  Bigger  ossifers  'n  you  ud  have  ter  notice  it. 
Ef  I  was  in  yu  shoes  howsomever,  in  huntin'  shy  game,  I 
could  use  sech  a  clar  s'picion  agin  her  en  be  mo'  on  my 
gyard  inter  the  bargain." 

"  I  can  use  it  and  will,"  said  Whately,  sternly.  "  Perkins, 
keep  your  eyes  wide  open  in  my  behalf.  If  that  Yankee  or 
Chunk  ever  come  within  our  reach  again  —  the  nigger  stole 
my  horse  and  brought  the  Yank  here  too  in  time  to  prevent 
the  wedding,  I  believe." 

"  Reck'n  he  did,  Leftenant." 

"  Well,  he  and  his  master  may  be  within  our  reach  again. 
We  had  better  not  be  seen  much  together.  I  will  reward 
you  well  for  any  real  service,"  and  he  strode  away  in  strong 
perturbation. 

"Hang  your  reward,"  muttered  Perkins.  "You  think 
you're  goin'  ter  use  me  when  the  boot's  on  t'other  foot. 
You  shall  pay  me  fer  doin'  my  work.  I  couldn't  wish  the 
gal  nuthin'  worse  than  ter  marry  you.  That  ud  satisfy  my 
grudge  agin  her,  but  ef  I  get  my  claws  on  that  nigger  en 
dom'neerin'  Yank  of  a  master  "  —  his  teeth  came  together 


A   BACKGROUND   OF  EGOTISM.  25  I 

after  the  grim  fashion  of  a  bulldog,  by  way  of  completing 
his  soliloquy. 

The  spring  evening  deepened  from  twilight  into  dusk,  the 
moon  rose  and  shone  with  mild  radiance  over  the  scene  that 
had  abounded  in  gloom,  tragedy  and  adventure  the  night 
before.  The  conflict  which  then  had  taken  place  now 
caused  the  pathetic  life-and-death  struggles  occurring  in  and 
about  the  old  mansion.  In  the  onset  of  battle  muscle  and 
the  impulse  to  destroy  dominated ;  now  the  heart,  with  its 
deep  longings,  its  memories  of  home  and  kindred,  the  soul 
with  its  solemn  thoughts  of  an  unknown  phase  of  life  which 
might  be  near,  came  to  the  fore,  rendering  the  long,  doubt- 
ful struggle  complex  indeed. 

The  stillness  was  broken  only  by  the  steps  and  voices 
of  attendants  and  the  irrepressible  groans  of  those  who 
watched  for  the  day  with  hope  that  waxed  and  waned  as 
the  case  might  be.  Uncle  Lusthah  yearned  over  the  Federal 
wounded  with  a  great  pity,  the  impression  that  they  were 
suffering  for  him  and  his  people  banishing  sleep.  He  hov- 
ered among  them  all  night  long,  bringing  water  to  fevered 
lips  and  saying  a  word  of  Christian  cheer  to  any  who  would 
listen. 

Miss  Lou  wakened  with  the  dawn  and  recognized  with 
gladness  that  her  strength  and  courage  for  work  had  been 
restored.  Even  more  potent  than  thoughts  of  Scoville  was 
the  impulse  to  be  at  work  again,  especially  among  those 
with  whom  she  inevitably  associated  him.  Dressing  hastily, 
she  went  first  to  see  the  old  Confederate  colonel.  He  was 
evidently  failing  fast.  Ackley  and  an  attendant  were  watch- 
ing him.  He  looked  at  the  girl,  smiled  and  held  out  his 
hand.     She  took  it  and  sat  down  beside  him. 

"  Ah  ! "  he  said  feebly,  "  this  is  a  good  deal  better  than 
dying  alone.  Would  you  mind,  my  child,  writing  some 
things  I  would  like  to  say  to  my  family? " 


252  "MISS  LOU." 

Miss  Lou  brought  her  portfolio  and  tearfully  received  his 
dying  messages. 

"  Poor  little  girl !  "  said  the  colonel,  "  you  are  witnessing 
scenes  very  strange  to  you.  Try  to  keep  your  heart  tender 
and  womanly,  no  matter  what  you  see.  Such  tears  as  yours 
reveal  the  power  to  help  and  bless,  not  weakness.  I  can 
say  to  you  all  the  sacred,  farewell  words  which  would  be 
hard  to  speak  to  others." 

Brokenly,  with  many  pauses  from  weakness,  he  dictated 
his  last  letter,  and  she  wrote  his  words  as  well  as  she  could 
see  to  do  so.  "They  will  be  all  the  sweeter  and  more 
soothing  for  your  tears,  my  dear,"  he  said. 

He  kept  up  with  wonderful  composure  until  he  came  to 
his  message  to  "  little  Hal,"  his  youngest  child.  Then  the 
old  soldier  broke  down  and  reached  out  his  arms  in  vain 
yet  irrepressible  longing.  "  Oh,  if  I  could  kiss  the  little 
fellow  just  once  before  "  —  he  moaned. 

For  a  few  moments  he  and  the  girl  at  his  side  just  wept 
together,  and  then  the  old  man  said  almost  sternly,  "  Tell 
him  to  honor  his  mother  and  his  God,  to  live  for  the  South, 
for  which  his  father  died.  Say,  if  he  will  do  this  he  shall 
have  my  blessing,  not  without.  Now,  my  child,  I  trust  this 
letter  to  you.  Good-by  and  God  bless  you.  I  wish  to  be 
alone  a  little  while  and  face  the  last  enemy  calmly." 

As  she  kftelt  down  and  kissed  him  tears  again  rushed  to 
his  eyes  and  he  murmured,  "  That  was  good  and  sweet  of 
you,  my  child.  Keep  your  heart  simple  and  tender  as  it  is 
now.     Good-by." 

Returning  to  her  room  with  the  portfolio  she  met  her 
cousin  in  the  upper  hall.  He  fixed  his  eyes  searchingly 
upon  her  and  with  the  air  of  one  who  knew  very  much 
began,  "Cousin  Lou,  my  eyes  are  not  so  often  blinded 
with  tears  as  yours,  yet  they  see  more  perhaps  than  you  are 
aware  of.     I'm  willing  to  woo  you  as  gallantly  as  can  any 


A   BACKGROUND   OF  EGOTISM.  2$$ 

man,  but  you've  got  to  keep  some  faith  with  me  as  the 
representative  of  our  house  and  of  the  cause  which,  as  a 
Southern  girl,  should  be  first  always  in  its  claims." 

Her  heart  fluttered,  for  his  words  suggested  both  knowl- 
edge and  a  menace.  At  the  same  time  the  scenes  she  had 
passed  through,  especially  the  last,  lifted  her  so  far  above 
his  plane  of  life  that  she  shrunk  from  him  with  something 
very  like  contempt. 

"Do  you  know  what  I  have  been  writing?"  she  asked 
sternly. 

"  I  neither  know  nor  care.  I  only  wish  you  to  understand 
that  you  cannot  trifle  with  me  nor  wrong  me  with  impunity." 

"  Oh  ! "  she  cried,  with  a  strong  repellant  gesture,  "  why 
can't  you  see  and  understand?  You  fairly  make  me  loathe 
the  egotism  which,  in  scenes  like  these,  can  think  only  of 
self.  As  if  I  had  either  time  or  inclination  to  be  trifling  with 
you,  whatever  you  mean  by  that.  Brave  men  are  dying 
heroically  and  unselfishly,  thinking  of  others,  while  '  I,  me 
and  gallant  wooing,'  combined  with  vague  threats  against 
one  whom  you  are  in  honor  bound  to  protect,  are  the  only 
words  on  your  lips.  How  can  you  be  so  unmanly  ?  What 
are  you,  compared  with  that  noble  old  colonel  whose  last 
words  I  have  just  received?  If  you  care  a  straw  for  my 
opinion,  why  are  you  so  foolish  as  to  compel  me  to  draw 
comparisons?  Do,  for  manhood's  sake,  forget  yourself  for 
once." 

He  was  almost  livid  from  rage  as  he  replied  harshly, 
"  You'll  rue  these  words  !  " 

She  looked  at  him  scornfully  as  she  said,  "  It's  strange, 
but  your  words  and  expression  remind  me  of  Perkins.  He 
might  make  you  a  good  ally." 

In  his  confusion  and  anger  he  blurted  out,  "  Little  won- 
der you  think  of  him.  You  and  that  accursed  nigger, 
Chunk  "  — 


254  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Hush ! "  she  interrupted  in  a  low,  imperious  voice, 
"hush,  lest  as  representative  of  our  house  you  disgrace 
yourself  beyond  hope."  And  she  passed  quickly  to  her 
room. 

Within  less  than  an  hour  he  was  asking  himself  in  bitter 
self-upbraiding,  "What  have  I  gained?  What  can  I  do? 
Prefer  charges  against  my  own  cousin  which  I  cannot  prove  ? 
Impossible  !  Oh,  I've  been  a  fool  again.  I  should  have 
kept  that  knowledge  secret  till  I  could  use  it  for  a  definite 
purpose.     I'll  break  her  spirit  yet." 

If  he  had  seen  her  after  she  reached  her  room  he  might 
have  thought  it  broken  then.  Vague  dread  of  the  conse- 
quences of  an  act  which,  from  his  words,  she  believed  he 
knew  far  more  about  than  he  did,  mingled  with  her  anger 
and  feelings  of  repugnance.  "  Oh,"  she  moaned,  "  it  was 
just  horrible ;  it  was  coming  straight  down  from  the  sublime 
to  the  contemptible.  That  noble  old  colonel  took  me  to 
the  very  gate  of  heaven.  Now  I'm  fairly  trembling  with 
passion  and  fear.  Oh,  why  will  Cousin  Mad  always  stir  up 
the  very  worst  of  my  feelings  !  I'd  rather  suffer  and  die  as 
poor  Yarry  did  than  marry  a  man  who  will  think  only  of  his 
little  self  at  such  a  time  as  this  ! " 


A  UN'  JINKEY'S  SUPREME    TEST.  255 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

aun'  jin-key's  supreme  test. 

THE  first  long  tragic  day  of  hospital  experience  had  so 
absorbed  Miss  Lou  as  to  relegate  into  the  background 
events  which  a  short  time  before  had  been  beyond  her 
wildest  dreams.  In  the  utter  negation  of  her  life  she  had 
wished  that  something  would  happen,  and  so  much  had 
happened  and  so  swiftly,  that  she  was  bewildered.  The 
strangest  thing  of  all  was  the  change  in  herself.  Lovers  of 
the  Whately  and  Maynard  type  could  only  repel  by  their 
tactics.  She  was  too  high-spirited  to  submit  to  the  one,  and 
too  simple  and  sincere,  still  too  much  of  a  child,  to  feel  any- 
thing but  annoyance  at  the  sentimental  gallantry  of  the 
other.  The  genial  spirit  of  comradeship  in  Scoville,  could 
it  have  been  maintained  through  months  of  ordinary  life, 
would  probably  have  prepared  the  way  for  deeper  feeling  on 
the  part  of  both,  but  there  had  been  no  time  for  the  gradual 
development  of  good -will  and  friendly  understanding  into 
something  more.  They  had  been  caught  in  an  unexpected 
whirl  of  events  and  swept  forward  into  relations  utterly 
unforeseen.  He  owed  his  escape  from  much  dreaded  cap- 
tivity and  his  very  life  to  her,  and,  as  he  had  said,  these 
facts,  to  her  generous  nature,  were  even  more  powerful  in 
their  influence  than  if  she  herself  had  received  the  priceless 
favors.  At  the  same  time,  her  course  towards  him,  dic- 
tated at  first  by  mere  humanity,  then  good-will,  had  made 
his  regard  for  her  seem  natural  even  to  her  girlish  heart.     If 


256  "MISS  LOU." 

she  had  read  it  all  in  a  book,  years  before,  she  would  have 
said,  "  A  man  couldn't  do  less  than  love  one  when  fortune 
had  enabled  her  to  do  so  much  for  him."  So  she  had  simply 
approved  of  his  declaration,  down  by  the  run,  of  affection 
for  which  she  was  not  yet  ready,  and  she  approved  of  him 
all  the  more  fondly  because  he  did  not  passionately  and 
arbitrarily  demand  or  expect  that  she  should  feel  as  he  did, 
in  return.  "  I  didn't,"  she  had  said  to  herself  a  score  of 
times,  "and  that  was  enough  for  him." 

When  later,  for  his  sake,  she  faced  the  darkness  of  mid- 
night, a  peril  she  dared  not  contemplate,  and  the  cruel  mis- 
judgment  which  would  follow  her  action  if  discovered, 
something  deeper  awoke  in  her  nature  —  something  kindled 
into  strong,  perplexing  life  when,  in  his  passionate  gratitude, 
he  had  snatched  her  in  his  arms  and,  as  she  had  said,  "  given 
her  his  whole  heart  because  he  couldn't  help  himself."  From 
that  moment,  on  her  part  there  had  been  no  more  merely 
kind,  tranquil  thoughts  about  Scoville,  but  a  shy,  trembling, 
blushing  self-consciousness  even  when  in  solitude  his  image 
rose  before  her. 

As  she  sought  to  regain  composure  after  the  last  interview 
with  her  cousin,  and  to  think  of  her  best  course  in  view  of 
what  seemed  his  dangerous  knowledge,  a  truth,  kept  back 
thus  far  by  solemn  and  absorbing  scenes,  suddenly  became 
dear  to  her.  The  spirit  of  all-consuming  selfishness  again 
manifested  by  Whately,  revealed  as  never  before  the  gulf  of 
abject  misery  into  which  she  would  have  fallen  as  his  wife. 
"  If  it  hadn't  been  for  Lieutenant  Scoville  I  might  now  have 
been  his  despairing  bond  slave,"  she  thought ;  "  I  might  have 
been  any  way  if  the  Northern  officer  were  any  other  kind  of 
a  man,  brutal,  coarse,  as  I  had  been  led  to  expect,  or  even 
indifferent  and  stupid.  I  might  have  been  forced  into  rela- 
tions from  which  I  could  not  escape  and  then  have  learned 
afterwards  what  noble,  unselfish  men  there  are  in  the  world. 


A  UN'  JINKEY'S  SUPREME    TEST.  2$7 

Oh,  I  could  marry  Allan  Scoville,  I  could  love  him  and  devote 
my  life  to  him  wholly,  knowing  all  the  time  that  I  needn't 
protect  myself,  because  he  would  always  be  a -kinder,  truer, 
better  protector.  How  little  I  have  done  for  him  compared 
with  that  from  which  he  has  saved  me!" 

There  was  a  knock  at  the  door  and  Zany  quickly  entered. 
"  I  des  slip  off  while  ole  miss  in  de  sto'-room,  ter  gib  you  a 
warnin',  Miss  Lou.  Hain't  had  no  charnce  till  dis  minit. 
Dat  ar  ole  fox,  Perkins,  been  snoopin'  roun'  yistidy  arter  we 
un's  tracks  en  las'  night  he  tell  Mad  Whately  a  heap  ob  his 
'jecterin'." 

"  But  Zany,"  said  Miss  Lou,  "  you  don't  think  they  know 
any  thing." 

"  Reck'n  hit's  all  des  'jecterin',"  Zany  replied.  "  Kyant 
be  nufin'  else.  We  des  got  ter  face  hit  out.  Doan  you  fear 
on  me.  We  uns  mus'  dis  star  stupid-like  ef  dey  ax  ques- 
tions," and  she  whisked  off  again. 

The  girl  felt  that  the  spirit  of  Zany's  counsel  would  be  the 
best  policy  to  adopt.  While  she  might  not  "  star  stupid- 
like "  she  could  so  coldly  ignore  all  reference  to  Scoville's 
escape  as  to  embarrass  any  one  who  sought  to  connect  her 
with  it.  In  the  clearer  consciousness  of  her  feeling  towards 
the  Union  officer  her  heart  grew  glad  and  strong  at  the 
thought  of  the  service  she  had  rendered  him,  nor  did  it 
shrink  at  suffering  for  his  sake.  A  gratitude  quite  as  strong 
as  his  own  now  possessed  her  that  he  had  been  the  means 
of  keeping  her  from  a  union  dreaded  even  as  an  ignorant 
child,  and  now  known,  by  the  love  which  made  her  a  woman, 
to  be  earthly  perdition. 

"Having  escaped  that,"  she  reflected,  "there's  nothing 
else  I  greatly  fear,"  and  she  went  down  to  breakfast  resolv- 
ing that  she  would  be  so  faithful  in  her  duties  as  a  nurse  that 
no  one  in  authority  would  listen  to  her  cousin  or  Perkins  if 
they  sought  to  make  known  their  surmises. 


258  "MISS  LOU." 

Ignorant  of  her  son's  action  and  its  results,  Mrs.  Whately 
met  her  niece  kindly  and  insisted  that  she  should  not  leave 
the  dining-room  until  she  had  partaken  of  the  breakfast  now 
almost  ready.  Captain  Maynard  joined  her  with  many 
expressions  of  a  solicitude  which  the  girl  felt  to  be  very  un- 
called for,  yet  in  her  instinct  to  propitiate  ever)7  one  in  case 
her  action  should  be  questioned,  she  was  more  friendly  to 
him  than  at  any  time  before.  Meanwhile,  she  was  asking 
herself,  "What  would  they  do  to  me  if  all  was  found  out?" 
and  sustaining  herself  by  the  thought,  "  Whatever  they  do 
to  me,  they  can't  reach  Lieutenant  Scoville." 

It  was  gall  and  bitterness  to  Whately  to  find  her  talking 
affably  to  Maynard,  but  before  the  meal  was  over  she  had 
the  address  to  disarm  him  in  some  degree.  For  his  own 
sake  as  well  as  hers  and  the  family's  she  thought,  "  I  must 
not  irritate  him  into  hasty  action.  If  he  should  find  out, 
and  reveal  everything,  no  matter  what  happened  to  me,  he 
would  bring  everlasting  disgrace  on  himself  and  relatives. 
I  could  at  least  show  that  my  motives  were  good,  no  matter 
how  soldiers,  with  their  harsh  laws,  might  act  towards  me ; 
but  what  motive  could  excuse  him  for  placing  me,  a  young 
girl  and  his  cousin,  in  such  a  position? " 

Whately  had  already  satisfied  himself  that  no  pretence  of 
zeal  for  the  service  could  conceal  his  real  motive  or  save 
him  from  general  scorn  should  he  speak  of  the  mere  con- 
jectures of  a  man  like  Perkins.  He  had  never  meant  to 
speak  of  them  publicly,  simply  to  use  his  knowledge  as  a 
means  of  influencing  his  cousin.  He  now  doubted  the 
wisdom  of  this.  Reacting  from  one  mood  to  another,  as 
usual,  his  chief  hope  now  was  that  some  unexpected  turn 
of  fortune's  wheel  would  bring  his  opportunity.  The  one 
thing  which  all  the  past  unfitted  him  to  accept  was  personal 
and  final  denial.  His  egotism  and  impatience  at  being 
crossed  began  to  manifest  itself  in  another  direction,  one 


A  UN'  JINKEY'S  SUPREME    TEST.  2$g 

suggested  by  Maynard's  evident  susceptibility  to  his  cousin's 
attractions.  "  Here  is  a  chance,"  he  thought,  "  of  righting 
myself  in  Lou's  eyes.  If  this  fellow,  thrown  into  her  society 
by  the  fortune  of  war,  not  by  courtesy,  presumptuously  goes 
beyond  a  certain  point  in  his  attentions,  Cousin  Lou  will  find 
that  no  knight  of  olden  time. would  have  fought  for  her 
quicker  than  I  will.  Mother  says  she  is  one  who  must  have 
her  romance.  She  may  have  it  with  a  vengeance.  It  may 
open  her  eyes  to  the  truth  that  a  spirit  like  mine  brooks 
no  opposition,  and  when  she  sees  that  I  am  ready  to  face 
death  for  her  she  will  admire,  respect,  and  yield  to  a  nature 
that  is  haughty  and  like  that  of  the  old  nobility." 

Thus  he  blinded  himself  in  these  vain,  silly  vaporings,  the 
result  of  a  false  training  and  the  reading  of  stilted  romances. 
The  thought  of  studying  the  girl's  character,  of  doing  and 
being  in  some  degree  what  would  be  agreeable  to  her,  never 
occurred  to  him.  That  kind  of  good  sense  rarely  does 
occur  to  the  egotistical,  who  often  fairly  exasperate  those 
whom  they  would  please  by  utter  blindness  to  the  simple 
things  which  are  pleasing.  Miss  Lou  had  read  more  old 
romances  than  he,  but  she  speedily  outgrew  the  period  in 
which  she  was  carried  away  by  the  fantastic  heroes  described. 
They  became  in  her  fancy  the  other  extreme  of  the  matter- 
of-fact  conditions  in  which  her  uncle  and  aunt  had  lived, 
and  as  we  have  seen,  she  longed  to  know  the  actual  world, 
to  meet  with  people  who  did  not  seem  alien  to  her  young 
and  natural  sympathies.  Each  new  character  she  met 
became  a  kind  of  revelation  to  her.  She  was  the  opposite 
pole  of  the  society  belle,  whose  eyes  have  wearied  of  human- 
ity, who  knows  little  and  cares  less  for  anything  except  her 
mirrored  image.  With  something  of  the  round-eyed  curi- 
osity and  interest  of  a  child,  she  looked  at  every  new  face, 
asking  herself,  "What  is  he  like?"  not  whether  he  will 
like  and  admire  me,  although  she  had  not  a  little  feminine 


260  "MISS  LOU." 

pleasure  in  discovering  that  strangers  were  inclined  to  do  this. 
Her  disapproval  of  Maynard  arose  chiefly  from  the  feeling 
that  his  gallantry  at  such  a  time,  with  the  dead  and  dying 
all  about  them,  was  "  more  shocking  than  a  game  of  cards 
on  Sunday."  She  regarded  his  attentions,  glances,  tones, 
as  mere  well-bred  persiflage,  indulged  in  for  his  own  amuse- 
ment, and  she  put  him  down  as  a  trifler  for  his  pains.  That 
he,  as  she  would  phrase  it,  "  was  just  smitten  without  any 
rhyme  or  reason "  seemed  preposterous.  She  had  done 
nothing  for  him  as  she  had  for  Scoville.  The  friendly  or 
the  frankly  admiring  looks  of  strangers,  the  hearty  gratitude 
and  good-will  of  the  wounded,  she  could  accept  with  as 
much  pleasure  as  any  of  her  sex ;  but  she  had  not  yet  rec- 
ognized that  type  of  man  who  looks  at  a  pretty  woman  and 
is  disposed  to  make  love  to  her  at  once.  "  Why  does  Cap- 
tain Maynard  stare  at  me  so  ?  "  she  asked  herself,  "  when  I 
don't  care  a  thistle  for  him  and  never  will.  Why  should 
I  care?  Why  should  he  care?  Does  he  think  I'm  silly 
and  shallow  enough  to  be  amused  by  this  kind  of  thing  when 
that  brave  old  colonel  is  dying  across  the  hall?  " 

It  was  a  relief  to  her  to  escape  from  him  and  Whately 
and  to  visit  even  poor  Waldo,  dying  also,  as  she  believed. 
"  Dr.  Ackley,"  she  said,  "  you  may  trust  me  to  give  him  his 
food  now  every  two  hours.     I  won't  break  down  again." 

"  You  did  not  break  down,  Miss  Baron.  All  my  nurses 
have  their  hours  off.  Why  shouldn't  you?  I  reckon,"  he 
added,  smiling,  "you'll  have  to  obey  my  orders  like  the 
rest.     I  will  go  with  you  again  on  this  visit." 

To  her  the  youth  seemed  ghastlier  than  ever,  but  the 
expression  of  gladness  in  his  eyes  was  unchanged. 

"  Miss  Baron  feels  very  remorseful  that  she  has  not  been 
to  see  you  before,"  said  Dr.  Ackley,  "  but  her  labors  yester- 
day were  so  many  and  varied  that  she  had  to  rest.  She 
will  do  better  by  you  to-day." 


A  UN '  JIXKE  Y  'S  SUPREME    TES T.  26 1 

Waldo  could  only  reach  his  hand  feebly  towards  her  in 
welcome.  She  took  the  brown,  shapely  hand  in  both  of 
hers  and  it  made  her  sad  to  feel  how  cold  and  limp  it  was. 
"  But  a  few  hours  ago,"  she  thought,  "  it  was  striking  blows 
with  a  heavy  sabre."  —  "I  have  brought  you  some  strong, 
hot  soup,"  she  said  gently,  "and  shall  bring  it  every  two 
hours.  You'll  be  very  good  and  take  it  from  me,  won't 
you?" 

He  laughed  as  he  nodded  assent. 

"  When  can  I  begin  to  read  to  him,  doctor,  to  help  him 
pass  the  time?" 

"  Perhaps  to-morrow  if  he  does  well,  but  never  more  than 
a  few  minutes  together  until  I  permit.  Slow  and  sure, 
Waldo,  slow  and  sure  are  my  orders,  and  you  are  too  good 
a  soldier  to  disobey." 

He  shook  his  head  mischievously  and  whispered  "  Insub- 
ordinate." 

The  doctor  nodded  portentously  and  said,  "  If  you  and 
Miss  Baron  don't  obey  orders  I'll  put  you  both  under 
arrest." 

This  seemed  to  amuse  the  young  fellow  immensely  and  he 
was  about  to  speak  again,  but  the  surgeon  put  his  finger  to 
his  lips  and  departed. 

As  she  was  feeding  him  with  eyes  full  of  gentle  commis- 
eration his  lips  framed  the  words,  "  You  can  talk  to  me." 

She  scarcely  knew  how  to  do  this.  There  were  questions 
she  was  eager  to  ask,  for  his  strange,  exuberant  happiness 
under  the  circumstances  were  hard  to  understand,  even 
after  Dr.  Ackley's  explanation,  She  had  never  seen  reli- 
gion produce  any  such  results.  Uncle  Lusthah  seemed  to 
her  very  sincere  and  greatly  sustained  in  his  faith,  but  he 
had  always  been  to  her  a  sorrowful,  plaintive  figure,  mourn- 
ing for  lost  kindred  whom  slavery  had  scattered.  Like 
the  ancient  prophets  also,  his  heart  was  ever  burdened  by  the 


262  "MISS  LOU." 

waywardness  of  the  people  whom  he  exhorted  and  warned. 
In  young  Waldo  appeared  a  joyousness  which  nothing 
could  quench.  From  the  moment  she  obtained  a  clew  to 
his  unexpected  behavior,  everything  in  his  manner  accorded 
with  the  surgeon's  explanation.  In  his  boyish  face  and 
expression  there  was  not  a  trace  of  the  fanatical  or  abnor- 
mal. He  seemed  to  think  of  Heaven  as  he  did  of  his  own 
home,  and  the  thought  of  going  to  the  one  inspired  much 
the  same  feeling  as  returning  to  the  other. 

"Well,"  said  Miss  Lou,  after  a  little  hesitancy,  "it  is  a 
pleasure  to  wait  on  one  who  is  so  brave  and  cheerful.  It 
makes  me  feel  ashamed  of  worrying  over  my  troubles." 

He  motioned  her  to  get  something  under  his  pillow  and 
she  drew  out  a  small  Testament.  With  the  ease  of  perfect 
familiarity  he  turned  the  leaves  and  pointed  to  the  words, 
"  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and 
I  will  give  you  rest."  He  looked  up  at  her,  smiled  brightly, 
and  shook  his  head  when  he  saw  tears  in  her  eyes.  Again 
he  turned  the  leaves  and  pointed  to  other  words,  "  Beloved, 
think  it  not  strange  concerning  the  fiery  trial  which  is  to 
try  you,  as  though  some  strange  thing  happened  unto  you : 
but  rejoice,  inasmuch  as  ye  are  partakers  of  Christ's  suf- 
ferings ;  that,  when  his  glory  shall  be  revealed,  ye  may  be 
glad  also  with  exceeding  joy."  His  expression  was  wonder- 
fully significant  in  its  content,  for  it  was  that  of  one  who 
had  explained  and  accounted  for  everything. 

"  Oh,"  she  faltered,  "  I  wish  I  felt  as  you  do,  believed  as 
you  do.  I  hope  you  will  get  strong  soon.  I  would  like  to 
tell  you  some  things  which  trouble  me  very  much  and  there 
is  no  one  I  can  tell." 

"By  and  by,"  he  whispered.     "  Don't  worry.     All  right." 

"  Oh,  what  does  this  mean  ?  "  she  thought  as  she  returned 
to  the  house.  "  Awfully  wounded,  suffering,  dying  perhaps, 
yet  'glad  with  an  exceeding  joy ' !    Uncle  and  aunt  haven't 


A  UN'  JINKEY'S  SUPREME    TEST.  263 

any  idea  of  such  a  religion,  and  for  some  reason  Dr.  Wil- 
liams never  gave  me  any  such  idea  of  it  at  church.  Why 
didn't  he?  Was  it  my  fault?  What  he  said  seemed  just 
words  that  made  little  or  no  impression.  Since  he  tried  to 
marry  me  to  Cousin  Mad  I  feel  as  if  I  could  scarcely  bear 
the  sight  of  him." 

Yet  he  was  the  first  one  to  greet  her  on  the  veranda.  He 
spoke  with  formal  kindness,  but  she  responded  merely  by  a 
grave  salutation,  and  passed  on,  for  she  felt  that  he  should 
have  understood  and  protected  her  in  the  most  terrible 
emergency  of  her  young  life. 

Having  looked  after  the  safety  of  his  family,  he  had 
returned  with  the  best  and  sincerest  intentions  to  minister 
to  the  wounded.  If  the  good  he  would  do  corresponded 
with  these  intentions  he  would  have  been  welcomed  in  most 
instances ;  but  he  possessed  that  unfortunate  temperament 
which  is  only  one  remove  for  the  better  from  a  cold  indiffer- 
ence to  his  sacred  duties.  He  did  not  possess  a  particle  of 
that  mysterious,  yet  in  his  calling  priceless  gift,  termed  mag- 
netism for  the  lack  of  a  better  definition.  All  respected 
him,  few  warmed  towards  him  or  thought  of  opening  to 
him  their  hearts.  His  mind  was  literal,  and  within  it  the 
doctrines  were  like  labelled  and  separate  packages,  from 
which  he  took  from  time  to  time  what  he  wanted  as  he 
would  supplies  from  a  store-room.  God  was  to  him  a  Sov- 
ereign and  a  Judge  who  would  save  a  few  of  the  human 
race  in  exact  accordance  with  the  creed  of  the  Church  in 
which  the  good  man  had  been  trained.  What  would  hap- 
pen to  those  without  its  pale  was  one  of  those  solemn  mys- 
teries with  which  he  had  naught  to  do.  Conscientious  in 
his  idea  of  duty  to  the  last  degree,  he  nevertheless  might 
easily  irritate  and  repel  many  minds  by  a  rigid  presentation 
of  the  only  formula  of  faith  which  he  deemed  safe  and 
adequate.     It  seemed  his  chief  aim  to  have  every  form  and 


264  "MISS  LOU.  M 

ceremony  of  his  Church  complied  with,  and  then  his 
responsibility  ceased.  He  and  Mr.  Baron  had  taken  solid 
comfort  in  each  other,  both  agreeing  on  every  point  of  doc- 
trine and  politics.  Both  men  honestly  felt  that  if  the  world 
could  be  brought  to  accept  their  view  of  life  and  duty  little 
would  be  left  to  be  desired.  When  summoned  to  perform 
the  marriage  ceremony  Dr.  Williams  no  more  comprehended 
the  desperate  opposition  of  Miss  Lou  to  the  will  of  her 
guardian,  the  shrinking,  instinctive  protest  of  her  woman's 
nature,  than  he  did  the  hostility  of  so  many  in  the  world  to 
the  tenets  of  his  faith.  His  inability  to  understand  the 
feelings,  the  mental  attitude  of  others  who  did  not  unques- 
tioningly  accept  his  views  and  approve  the  action  of  the 
"  powers  that  be  "  was  perhaps  the  chief  obstacle  to  his  use- 
fulness. He  was  not  in  the  least  degree  intolerant  or  vin- 
dictive towards  those  who  opposed  him ;  his  feeling  rather 
was,  "This  is  your  opportunity.  I  gladly  afford  it  and 
there  my  responsibility  ceases"  —  a  comfortable  sort  of  be- 
lief to  many,  but  one  that  would  not  satisfy  a  warm,  earnest 
nature  like  Paul's,  who  said,  "To  the  weak  I  became  as 
weak,  that  I  might  gain  the  weak :  I  am  made  all  things  to 
all  men,  that  I  might  by  .all  means  save  some."  Paul  would 
have  found  some  way  to  reach  the  ear  and  heart  of  nearly 
every  wounded  man  in  the  extemporized  hospital,  but  for  the 
reasons  suggested  the  visits  of  poor  Dr.  Williams  soon  began 
to  be  very  generally  dreaded.  Old  Uncle  Lusthah  had  far 
better  success  with  those  who  would  listen  to  him. 

Miss  Lou  soon  found  her  way  to  the  Federal  wounded 
again.  While  agreeably  to  her  wishes  there  was  no  formality 
in  her  reception,  it  was  evident  that  the  poor  fellows  had 
now  learned  to  regard  her  with  deep  affection. 

"  I  have  told  them  all,"  said  Dr.  Borden  who  received 
her,  "  that  you  did  as  Yarry  wished,  that  you  took  a  good 
rest  and  were  looking  this  morning  as  you  should,  and  it 


AUNy  JINKEY'S  SUPREME    TEST.  26$ 

has  pleased  them  greatly.  Phillips  died  last  night,  and  has 
been  removed.  He  hadn't  any  chance  and  did  not  suffer 
much.-  Remembering  your  wishes,  we  kept  Yarry  here. 
He  lies  there  as  if  he  were  dozing  after  his  pipe,  as  he 
wished  you  to  think." 

The  girl  stepped  to  the  side  of  the  dead  soldier  and  for  a 
moment  or  two  looked  silently  into  the  still,  peaceful  face. 
Quietly  and  reverently  the  surgeon  and  others  took  off  their 
hats  and  waited  till  she  should  speak.  "  Oh,"  she  breathed 
softly  at  last,  "how  thoughtful  and  considerate  you  have 
been  !  You  have  made  this  brave,  unselfish  man  look  just 
as  if  he  were  quietly  sleeping  in  his  uniform.  There  is 
nothing  terrible  or  painful  in  his  aspect  as  he  lies  there  on 
his  side.  Poor  generous-hearted  fellow  !  I  believe  he  is  at 
rest,  as  now  he  seems  to  be.  I  want  you  all  to  know,"  she 
added,  looking  round,  "that  he  shall  be  buried  where  I 
can  often  visit  his  grave  and  keep  it  from  neglect,  for  I  can 
never  forget  the  kindness  that  he  —  that  you  all  have  shown 
me.  Dr.  Borden,  I  will  now  show  Uncle  Lusthah  the  place 
where  I  wish  the  grave  to  be,  and  when  all  is  ready  I  will 
come  and  follow  poor  Yarry  to  it.  Do  you  think  there 
ought  to  be  a  minister?  There  is  one  here  now  —  Dr. 
Williams,  who  has  a  church  near  the  Court  House." 

"  Just  as  you  wish,  Miss  Baron.  For  one,  I  think  a 
prayer  from  Uncle  Lusthah,  as  you  call  him,  would  do  just 
as  well  and  be  more  in  accordance  with  Yarry's  feelings  if 
he  could  express  them.  The  old  negro  has  been  in  and  out 
nearly  all  night,  waiting  on  the  men,  and  has  won  their 
good-will.     He  certainly  is  a  good  old  soul." 

"  I  agree  with  the  doctor,"  added  Captain  Hanfield. 
"  Were  it  my  case  I'd  ask  nothing  better  than  a  prayer  from 
Uncle  Lusthah  over  my  grave,  for  he  has  acted  like  a  good, 
patient  old  saint  among  us." 

A  murmUr  of  approval  from  the  others  followed  these 


266  "MISS  LOU." 

words,  and  so  it  was  arranged.  Uncle  Lusthah  was  soon 
found,  and  he  followed  the  girl  to  the  shadow  of  a  great 
pine  by  the  run  and  adjacent  to  the  grassy  plot  with  which 
the  girl  would  ever  associate  Allan  Scoville.  It  was  there 
that  she  had  looked  into  his  eyes  and  discovered  what  her 
own  heart  was  now  teaching  her  to  understand. 

Aun'  Jinkey  followed  them  from  her  cabin  and  asked, 
"Wat  you  gwine  ter  do  yere,  honey? " 

"  Bury  here  a  Northern  soldier  who  has  done  me  a  very 
great  honor." 

"O  Miss  Lou,  I  des  feared  ter  hab  'im  so  neah  de 
cabin." 

"  Hush  !  "  said  the  girl,  almost  sternly.  "Uncle  Lusthah, 
you  ought  to  teach  mammy  better  than  that." 

"  Ah,  youn'  mistis,  hit's  bred  in  de  bone.  I  des  mourns 
ober  my  people,  'fusin'  ter  be  comf'ted.  Yere  Aun'  Jinkey, 
gittin'  gray  lak  me.  She  a  'fessor  ob  religion,  yet  de  word 
'spook'  set  her  all  a  tremble.  Ef  dey  is  spooks,  Aun' 
Jinkey,  w'at  dat  ter  you?  Dere's  tunder  en  lightnin'  en 
yearthquakes  en  wurin'  iliments  en  all  kin'  ob  miseries  ob 
de  body.  Who  gvvine  ter  keep  all  dem  mm  yo'  cabin? 
Reck'n  you  bettah  trus'  de  Lawd  'bout  spooks  too." 

"You  don't  believe  in  any  such  foolishness,  Uncle 
Lusthah?" 

"  Well,  young  mistis,  I  gettin'  po'ful  ole  en  I  al'ays  yeared 
on  spooks  sence  I  kin  reckermember.  I  neber  seed  one 
fer  sho,  but  I'se  had  strange  'sper'ences  o'  nights,  en  dar's 
dem  w'at  sez  dey  has  seen  de  sperets  ob  de  'parted.  I 
dunno.  Dere's  sump'n  in  folk's  buzzums  dat  takes  on  quar 
sometimes,  ez  ef  we  libin'  mighty  close  onter  a  worl'  we 
kyant  mos'  al'ays  see.  Dat  ar  doan  trouble  me  nohow,  en 
Aun'  Jinkey  orter  know  bettah.  Ef  de  Lawd  'mits  spooks, 
dat  He  business.  He  'mits  lots  ob  tings  we  kyant  see  troo. 
Look  at  dese  yere  old  han's,  young  mistis.     Dey's  wuked 


AUN'  JINKEY'S  SUPREME    TEST.  267 

nigh  on  eighty  yeah,  yit  dey  neber  wuked  fer  mysef,  dey 
neber  wuked  fer  wife  en  chil'n.     Dat  mo'  quar  dan  spooks." 

"  I  don't  know  but  you  are  right,"  said  the  girl  thought- 
fully. "  I  didn't  know  you  felt  so  about  being  free^  Aun' 
Jinkey  never  seemed  to  trouble  much  about  it." 

"  I'se  'feared  Aun'  Jinkey  tink  a  heap  on  de  leeks  en 
inions  ob  Egypt." 

"  Dar  now,  Uncle  Lusthah,  you  po'ful  good  man,  but  you 
owns  up  you  doan  know  nufin'  'bout  spooks,  en  I  knows 
you  doan  know  nufin'  'bout  freedom." 

"  Yes  I  does,"  replied  Uncle  Lusthah.  "  Ef  de  day  come 
w'cn  I  kin  stan'  up  en  say  fer  sho,  '  I  own  mysef,  en  God 
ony  my  Mars'r,'  I  kin  starbe  ef  dat  He  will.  En  dat 
'minds  me,  young  mistis.  Is  we  free?  Perkins  growlin' 
roun'  agin  dis  mawnin',  en  say  we  he'p  'bout  de  horspital 
ter-day,  but  we  all  go  ter  wuk  ter-morrer.  I  'lowed  he 
orter  talk  ter  us  'bout  wages  en  he  des  larf  en  cuss  me. 
Wat's  gwine  ter  be  de  end?  Marse  Scoville  en  de  big 
Linkum  gin'ral  say  we  free,  en  Perkins  larf  'temptuous  like. 
We  des  all  a  lookin'  ter  you,  young  mistis." 

"  O  uncle  !  what  can  I  do?  " 

"  Shame  on  you,  Uncle  Lusthah,  fer  pilin'  up  sech  a  heap 
ob  'plexity  on  my  honey,"  cried  Aun'  Jinkey,  who  was  as 
practical  as  she  was  superstitious.  "  I  kin  tell  you  w'at  ter 
do.  I  doan  projeck  en  smoke  in  my  chimbly  corner  fer 
not'n.  W'at  kin  you  do  but  do  ez  you  tole  twel  Marse 
Scoville  en  de  Linkum  gin'ral  come  agin?  S'pose  you  say 
you  woan  wuk  en  woan  'bey,  how  you  hole  out  agin  Perkins 
en  Mad  Whately?  Dey'd  tar  you  all  ter  pieces.  Dey  say 
dis  wah  fer  freedom.  Whar  yo'  patience  twel  de  wah'll  end  ? 
De  Yanks  mus'  do  mo'  dan  say  we  free ;  dey  mus'  keep 
us  free.  Dar  Aun'  Suke.  She  say  she  free  one  minit  en 
a  slabe  nex'  minute  twel  her  haid  mos'  whirl  off  her  shol'ers. 
Now  she  say,  '  I  doan  know  'bout  dis  freedom  business ;  I 


268  "MISS  LOU." 

does  know  how  ter  cook  en  I'se  gwinter  cook  twel  dey 
gets  troo  a  whirlin'  back  en  forth.'  You  says  I  mus'  trus'  de 
Lawd  'bout  spooks,  Uncle  Lusthah.  W'y  kyant  you  trus' 
de  Lawd  'bout  freedom?" 

The  old  man  shook  his  head  sorrowfully,  for  Aun'  Suke 
and  Aun'  Jinkey's  philosophy  didn't  satisfy  him.  "  I'se 
willin'  ter  do  my  shar,"  he  said  musingly,  "  de  Lawd  knows 
I  be.  Ef  I  cud  die  lak  po'  Marse  Yarry  en  de  oders  fer 
freedom  I'se  willin'  ter  die." 

"  Now,  Uncle  Lusthah,  your  strong  feeling  and  not  your 
good  sense  speaks,"  said  Miss  Lou,  who  had  been  thinking 
earnestly,  meanwhile  recalling  Scoville's  prediction  that  the 
negroes  might  come  to  her  for  help  and  counsel.  "  Aun' 
Jinkey  is  certainly  right  in  this  case,  and  you  must  tell  all 
our  people  from  me  that  their  only  safe  course  now  is  to 
obey  all  orders  and  bide  their  time.  Perkins'  authority 
would  be  sustained  by  all  the  soldiers  on  the  place  and  any- 
thing like  disobedience  would  be  punished  severely.  If 
what  Lieutenant  Scoville  and  the  Northern  general  said  is 
true  you  will  soon  be  free  without  useless  risks  on  your  part. 
If  that  time  comes  I  want  you  and  mammy  to  stay  with  me. 
You  shall  be  as  free  as  I  am  and  I'll  give  you  wages." 

"  Dar  now,  young  mistis,  ef  I  know  I  free  I  .bress  de 
Lawd  fer  de  charnce  ter  gib  my  wuk  ter  you.  Dere's  a 
po'ful  dif'unce  'twix'  bein'  took  en  kep  en  des  gibin'  yosef  out 
ob  yo'  own  heart.  Slav'y  couldn't  keep  me  fum  gibin'  mysef 
ter  de  Lawd  en  I  been  He  free  man  many  a  long  yeah,  en  I 
be  yo'  free  man,  too,  fer  lub." 

"  Look  yere,  now,  honey,"  added  Aun'  Jinkey,  wiping  her 
eyes  with  her  apron,  "  you  kin  bury  sogers  all  'bout  de  cabin 
ef  you  wanter.  Uncle  Lusthah  kyant  do  mo'  fer  you,  honey, 
ner  me,  tookin  resks  ob  spooks.  Des  bury  dem  sogers,  ef 
you  wanter,  right  un'er  my  win'er." 


TRUTH  IF  THE  HE  A  VENS  FALL.  269 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

TRUTH   IF  THE   HEAVENS   FALL. 

IT  was  quite  natural  that  the  thoughts  of  Perkins  and  Mr. 
Baron  should  turn  towards  the  growing  crops,  neglected 
by  reason  of  events  unprecedented  in  their  experience.  The 
announcement  to  the  slaves,  first  by  Scoville  and  later  con- 
firmed by  General  Marston,  of  freedom,  had  staggered  both 
employer  and  overseer,  but  every  hour  since  the  departure 
of  the  raiding  Union  column  had  been  reassuring. 

It  is  not  within  the  province  of  this  story  to  follow-  the 
fortunes  of  that  force,  since  it  is  our  modest  purpose  merely 
to  dwell  on  those  events  closely  related  to  the  experiences 
of  the  Southern  girl  who  has  won  our  attention.  She  had 
suddenly  become  secondary  in  her  uncle's  thoughts.  A 
phase  of  the  war,  like  a  sudden  destructive  storm,  had  been 
witnessed ;  like  a  storm,  he  hoped  that  it  and  its  effects 
would  pass  away.  The  South  was  far  from  being  subdued ; 
the  issue  of  the  conflict  unknown.  He  was  the  last  man  in 
the  Confederacy  to  foresee  and  accept  new  conditions,  espe- 
cially when  he  still  believed  the  Southern  cause  would 
triumph. 

As  the  confusion  of  his  mind,  after  the  battle,  passed  he 
began  to  look  around  and  consider  what  should  be  done, 
what  could  be  saved  out  of  what  at  first  appeared  a  wreck. 
When  Dr.  Ackley  assured  him  that  the  house  and  plantation 
would  be  rapidly  abandoned  as  a  hospital,  hope  and  courage 
revived,  while  to  these  was  added  the  spur  of  necessity. 


270  "MISS  LOU." 

He  knew  that  he  must  "  make  his  crops,"  or  his  fortunes 
would  be  desperate.  Remembering  the  value  of  timely 
labor  in  the  spring  season,  he  was  eager  on  this  second  day- 
after  the  battle  to  put  his  slaves  to  work  again  at  their  inter- 
rupted avocations.  Accordingly  he  held  a  consultation  with 
his  nephew  and  Dr.  Ackley. 

"The  hands  are  becoming  demoralized,"  he  said,  "by 
unaccustomed  duties  and  partial  idleness.  Some  are  sullen 
and  others  distracted  by  all  kinds  of  absurd  expectations. 
Uncle  Lusthah,  the  leader  and  preacher  among  them,  even 
had  the  impudence  to  ask  Perkins  about  wages.  The 
Yankee  officers,  when  here,  told  them  they  were  free,  and 
they  wish  to  act  as  if  they  were.  The  sooner  that  notion 
is  taken  out  of  their  heads  the  better.  This  can  be  done 
now  while  my  nephew  is  here  to  enforce  authority,  better 
than  when  we  are  alone  again.  It  seems  to  me  that  a  cer- 
tain number  could  be  detailed  for  regular  hospital  duty  and 
the  rest  put  to  work  as  usual." 

"  I  agree  with  you,  certainly,"  replied  Surgeon  Ackley. 
"  Give  me  a  dozen  men  and  half  a  dozen  women  to  wash 
and  cook,  and  I  can  get  along.  Lieutenant  Whately,  you, 
at  your  uncle's  suggestion,  can  make  the  detail  and  enforce 
discipline  among  the  rest." 

"  I  was  going  to  speak  to  you  about  this  very  matter, 
uncle,"  said  Whately.  "  My  overseer  has  been  over  and 
I  find  the  black  imps  on  our  place,  are  in  much  the  same 
condition  as  yours,  a  few  venturing  to  talk  about  wages  or 
shares  in  the  crop  and  all  that  nonsense.  I  sent  him  back 
with  half  a  dozen  men,  armed  to  the  teeth,  and  told  him  to 
put  the  hands  at  work  as  usual.  Mother  is  going  to  ride 
over  and  spend  part  of  the  day.  I  don't  wish  her  to  be 
there  alone  just  yet,  and  I  shall  gallop  over  in  time  to  be  on 
hand  when  she  arrives.  Thing  are  getting  settled,  my  arm 
is  not  so  painful  and  it  is  time  we  pulled  ourselves  and  every- 


TRUTH  IF  THE  HEAVENS  FALL.  27 1 

thing  together.  You  struck  the  right  note  when  you  said, 
'  Now  is  the  time  to  enforce  authority.'  It  must  be  done 
sharply  too,  and  these  people  taught  the  difference  between 
the  Yanks'  incendiary  talk  and  our  rights  and  positive  com- 
mands. From  what  Perkins  says,  this  old  Uncle  Lusthah 
is  a  fire-brand  among  your  people.  Give  your  overseer  his 
orders  and  I'll  see  that  he  carries  them  out." 
'  Perkins  was  summoned,  acquainted  with  the  policy  — 
just  to  his  mind  —  resolved  upon,  told  to  pick  out  the  detail 
for  hospital  duty  and  to  have  the  rest  ready  for  work  after 
an  early  dinner. 

"  Go  right  straight  ahead,  Perkins,"  added  Whately,  "  and 
let  me  know  if  one  of  these  Yankee-made  freemen  so  much 
as  growls." 

Dr.  Borden  was  not  the  kind  of  man  to  take  upon 
himself  undue  responsibility.  He  had  therefore  men- 
tioned to  Surgeon  Ackley  Miss  Baron's  wish  to  give  Yarry 
a  special  burial  by  the  run  and  that  she  expected  to  be 
present. 

Ackley  good-naturedly  acquiesced,  saying,  "I  suppose 
there  can  be  no  objection  to  burying  the  man  in  a  place  of 
Miss  Baron's  selection  instead  of  the  one  designated  by 
Mr.  Baron.  It's  but  a  small  concession  to  her  who  is  so 
kindly  bent  on  making  herself  useful.  Let  her  have  her 
own  way  in  the  whole  affair." 

The  spirit  of  Yarry's  turbulent  career  seemed  destined  to 
break  out  afresh  over  his  final  disposition.  Uncle  Lusthah 
went  to  the  quarters  in  order  to  obtain  the  aid  of  two  or 
three  stout  hands  in  digging  the  grave.  It  so  happened 
that  his  visit  took  place  during  the  adoption  of  Mr.  Baron's 
policy  in  dealing  with  his  property  and  just  before  Perkins 
received  his  instructions.  The  negroes  not  engaged  in  labor 
relating  to  the  hospital  gathered  around  Uncle  Lusthah  in 
the  hope  of  receiving  some  advice  from  Miss  Lou.     Mourn 


2/2  "MISS  LOU." 

fully  the  old  man  told  them  what  she  and  Aim'  Jinkey  had 
said,  adding,  "I  doan  see  no  oder  way  fer  us  des  at  dis 
time  ob  our  triberlation.  Ole  Pharo  sut'ny  got  he  grip  on 
us  agin,  he  sut'ny  hab  fer  a  spell.  But  brudren  en  sistas, 
hit  ony  lak  a  cloud  comin'  'cross  de  risin'  sun.  Let  us  des 
wait  pashently  de  times  en  seasons  ob  de  Lawd  who  alone 
kin  brung  de  true  'liverance." 

When  he  saw  the  deep,  angry  spirit  of  protest  he  threw 
up  his  hands,  crying,  "  Wat  de  use  ?  I  warn  you ;  I  'treat 
you,  be  keerful.  Wat  could  us  do  wid  our  bar  han's  agin 
armed  men?  I  tells  you  we  mus'  wait  or  die  lak  Moses 
'fo'  we  enter  de  promis  Ian'."  Then  he  told  them  about 
Yarry  and  asked  for  two  or  three  to  volunteer  to  dig  the 
grave. 

A  score  stepped  forward  and  nearly  all  expressed  their 
purpose  to  attend  the  funeral.  The  old  man  persuaded  all 
but  three  to  remain  near  the  quarters  at  present,  saying, 
"So  many  gwine  wid  me  mout  mek  trouble,  fer  Perkins 
look  ugly  dis  mawnin'." 

"  We  ugly  too,"  muttered  more  than  one  voice,  but  they 
yielded  to  Uncle  Lusthah's  caution. 

In  going  to  the  run  Uncle  Lusthah  and  his  assistants  had 
to  pass  somewhat  near  the  house,  and  so  were  intercepted 
by  Perkins  and  Whately,  both  eager  to  employ  at  once  the 
tactics  resolved  upon. 

"Where  the  devil  are  you  goin'  with  those  men  and 
shovels?"  shouted  Perkins. 

"  We  gwine  ter  dig  a  grabe  fer  a  Linkum  soger  down  by 
de  run,"  replied  Uncle  Lusthah  quietly. 

"  That  ain't  the  place  ter  plant  the  Yanks,  you  old  fool. 
Go  back  to  the  quarters.  No  words.  Leftenant  Whately 
will  detail  the  hands  fer  sech  work.  Back  with  you.  Why 
in don't  you  mind  ?  " 

"  I  hab  my  orders  fum  "  — 


TRUTH  IF   THE  HEAVENS  FALL.  273 

"  Silence  !  "  thundered  Whately.  "  Obey,  or  you'll  go 
back  at  the  point  of  the  sabre." 

Uncle  Lusthah  and  his  companions  still  hesitated,  for 
they  saw  Miss  Lou  running  towards  them.  She  had  lin- 
gered to  talk  with  Aun'  Jinkey  and  was  returning  when  she 
heard  Perkins'  high,  harsh  words.  The  overseer  was  in  a 
rage,  and  limped  hastily  forward  with  uplifted  cane,  when 
he  was  suddenly  confronted  by  the  hot  face  and  flashing 
eyes  of  Miss  Lou. 

"  Don't  you  dare  strike  Uncle  Lusthah,"  she  said  sternly. 

Her  appearance  and  attitude  evoked  all  the  pent-up  hate 
and  passion  in  the  man's  nature  and  he  shouted,  "  By  the 
'tarnal,  I  will  strike  'im.  I've  got  my  orders  en  I'll  find  out 
yere  en  now  whether  a  traitor  girl  or  a  Southern  officer  rules 
this  place." 

Before  the  blow  could  descend  she  sprung  forward,  seized 
his  wrist  and  stayed  his  hand. 

"  Wretch  !  murderer  !  coward  !  "  she  cried. 

"Oh,  come,  Cousin  Lou,  this  won't  do  at  all,"  began 
Whately,  hastening  up. 

An  ominous  rush  and  trampling  of  feet  was  heard  and  an 
instant  later  the  negroes  were  seen  running  towards  them 
from  the  quarters  and  all  points  at  which  the  sounds  of  the 
altercation  reached  them. 

"Turn  out  the  guard,"  shouted  Whately.  "Rally  the 
men  here  with  carbines  and  ball-cartridges."  He  whirled 
Perkins  aside,  saying,  "Get  out  of  the  way,  you  fool." 
Then  he  drew  his  sabre  and  thundered  to  the  negroes, 
"  Back,  for  your  lives  !  " 

They  hesitated  and  drew  together.  Miss  Lou  went  directly 
towards  them  and  implored,  "  Go  back.  Go  back.  Do  what 
I  ask  and  perhaps  I  can  help  you.  If  you  don't,  no  one 
can  or  will  help  you.     See,  the  soldiers  are  coming." 

"  We'll  'bey  you,  young  mistis,"  said  Uncle  Lusthah,  "  but 


274  "MISS  LOU." 

we  uns  lak  ter  hab  'splained  des  what  we  got  ter  'spect. 
We  kyant  die  but  oncet,  en  ef  we  kyant  eben  bury  de  sogers 
dat  die  fer  us  "  — 

"  Silence  !  "  shouted  Whately.  "  Forward  here,  my  men. 
Form  line  !  Advance  !  Shoot  the  first  one  that  resists." 
He  then  dashed  forward,  sought  to  encircle  his  cousin  with 
his  arm  and  draw  her  out  cf  the  way. 

She  eluded  him  and  turned  swiftly  towards  the  advancing 
line  of  men,  crying,  "  Stop,  if  there  is  a  drop  of  Southern 
blood  in  your  veins."  They  halted  and  stared  at  her.  She 
resumed,  "  You  will  have  to  walk  over  me  before  you  touch 
these  poor  creatures.  Uncle  "  (for  Mr.  Baron  now  stood 
aghast  on  the  scene) ,  "  as  you  are  a  man,  come  here  with 
me  and  speak,  explain  to  your  people.  That  is  all  they 
ask.  They  have  been  told  that  they  were  free,  and  now  the 
oldest  and  best  among  them,  who  was  doing  my  bidding, 
almost  suffered  brutal  violence  from  a  man  not  fit  to  live. 
Where  is  the  justice,  right  or  sense  in  such  a  course?  Tell 
your  people  what  you  wish,  what  you  expect,  and  that  they 
will  be  treated  kindly  in  obeying  you." 

She  recognized  that  every  moment  gained  gave  time  for 
cooler  thoughts  and  better  counsels,  also  for  the  restraining 
presence  of  others  who  were  gathering  upon  the  scene.  It 
was  in  the  nature  of  her  headlong  cousin  to  precipitate 
trouble  without  thought  of  the  consequences;  but  as  she 
spoke  she  saw  Surgeons  Ackley  and  Borden  running  forward. 
Captain  Maynard  was  already  at  her  side,  and  Whately 
looked  as  if  he  could  cut  his  rival  down  with  the  weapon  in 
his  hand.  While  Mr.  Baron  hesitated  Mrs.  Whately  also 
reached  her  niece  and  urged,  "  Brother,  I  adjure  you,  go 
and  speak  to  your  people.  They  are  your  people  and  you 
should  tell  them  what  to  expect  before  you  begin  to  punish. 
Go  with  Surgeon  Ackley  and  settle  this  question  once  for 
all." 


TRUTH  IF   THE  HEAVENS  FALL.  2/5 

"Yes,  Mr.  Baron,"  said  Ackley  sternly,  "we  must  settle 
this  question  promptly.  Such  uproar  and  excitement  are 
bad  for  my  patients  and  not  to  be  permitted  for  an  in- 
stant." 

It  was  evident  that  the  surgeon  was  terribly  angry.  He 
had  been  brought  up  in  the  old  regular  army,  and  anything 
like  insubordination  or  injury  to  his  patients  were  things  he 
could  not  tolerate.  Mr.  Baron  went  forward  with  him  and 
said  in  a  low  tone,  — 

"  You  are  virtually  in  command  here  and  all  know  it.  A 
few  words  from  you  will  have  more  effect  than  anything  I 
can  say." 

"Very  well,  then,"  responded  the  resolute  surgeon,  and 
he  strode  towards  the  negroes,  not  noticing  that  Miss  Lou 
kept  almost  at  his  side. 

"  Look  here,  you  people,"  he  began  harshly,  "  do  you 
think  I  will  permit  such  disturbances?  They  may  be  the 
death  of  brave  men.  Quit  your  nonsense  at  once.  You 
are  simply  what  you've  always  been.  Yankee  words  don't 
make  you  free  any  more  than  they  make  us  throw  down  our 
arms.  What  happened  to  the  general  who  said  you  were 
free  ?  We  fought  him  and  drove  him  away.  There  is  only 
one  thing  you  can  do  and  must  do  —  go  to  work  as  before, 
and  woe  be  to  those  who  make  trouble.     That's  all." 

"  No,"  cried  Miss  Lou,  "  that  surely  cannot  be  all." 

"  Miss  Baron  !     What  can  you  mean?  " 

"  I  mean  that  these  poor  creatures  are  looking  to  me, 
trusting  in  me,  and  I  have  promised  to  intercede  in  their 
behalf.  Tell  them  at  least  this,  you  or  uncle,  that  if 
they  obey  and  work  quietly  and  faithfully  they  shall  not  be 
treated  harshly,  nor  subjected  to  the  brutal  spite  of  that 
overseer,  Perkins." 

"  Truly,  Miss  Baron,  you  can  scarcely  expect  me  to  inter- 
fere with  your  uncle's  management  of  his  property.     The 


276  "MISS  LOU." 

only  thing  I  can  and  will  do  is  to  insist  on  absolute  quiet 
and  order  on  the  place.  In  this  case  every  one  must  obey 
the  surgeon-in-charge.  Do  you  understand  that?"  he  con- 
cluded, turning  to  the  negroes.  "  Neither  you  nor  any  one 
else  can  do  anything  to  injure  my  patients.  As  you  value 
your  lives,  keep  quiet.  1  will  not  permit  even  a  harsh,  dis- 
turbing sound.  Do  not  dare  to  presume  on  Miss  Baron's 
kindness,  mistaken  in  this  crisis.  This  unruly,  reckless 
spirit  must  be  stamped  out  now.  Your  owner  and  master 
will  tell  you  what  he  expects  and  I  will  have  the  first  man 
who  disobeys  shot.     Miss  Baron,  you  must  come  with  me." 

"Yes,  sir,  but  not  until  I  have  spoken  the  truth  about 
this  affair.  All  your  power,  Dr.  Ackley,  cannot  keep  me 
dumb  when  I  see  such  injustice.  You  are  threatening  and 
condemning  without  having  heard  a -word  of  explanation. 
Uncle  Lusthah  and  those  with  him  were  simply  doing  my 
bidding.  Can  you  think  I  would  stand  by  and  see  him 
cursed  and  beaten?  These  people  have  not  shown  any 
unruly,  reckless  spirit.  They  may  well  be  bewildered,  and 
they  only  asked  what  they  must  expect.  God  is  my  witness, 
I  will  cry  out  *  Shame  ! '  with  my  last  breath  if  they  are 
treated  brutally.  They  will  be  quiet,  they  will  do  their  duty 
if  treated  kindly.  They  shall  not  appeal  to  me  for  justice 
and  mercy  in  vain.  My  words  may  not  help  them,  but  I 
shall  not  stand  tamely  by  like  a  coward,  but  will  call  any 
man  on  earth  coward  who  butchers  one  of  these  unarmed 
negroes." 

She  stood  before  them  all  possessed  by  one  thought  — 
justice.  Her  face  was  very  pale,  but  stern,  undaunted  and 
noble  in  its  expression.  She  was  enabled  to  take  her  course 
from  the  courage,  simplicity  and  unconventionality  of  her 
nature,  becoming  utterly  absorbed  by  her  impulse  to  defend 
those  who  looked  to  her,  neither  regarding  or  fearing,  in  her 
strong  excitement,  the  consequences  to  herself. 


TRUTH  IF  THE   HEAVENS  FALL.  277 

Dr.  Borden  was  hastening  forward  to  remind  Ackley  of 
his  promise  concerning  Yarry's  grave,  and  to  show  the  girl 
that  he  at  least  would  stand  with  her ;  but  his  chief  waved 
him  back.  The  old  surgeon  of  the  regular  army  could 
appreciate  courage,  and  the  girl's  words  and  aspect  pierced 
the  thick  crust  of  his  military  and  professional  armor,  touch- 
ing to  the  quick  the  man  within  him.  He  saw  in  the  brave 
young  face  defiance  of  him,  of  the  whole  world,  in  her 
sense  of  right,  and  he  had  the  innate  nobility  of  soul  to 
respect  her  motive  and  acknowledge  the  justice  of  her 
action.  Watching  her  attentively  until  she  was  through 
speaking  he  took  off  his  hat,  stepped  forward  and  gave  her 
his  hand. 

"You  are  a  brave  girl,"  he  said  frankly.  "  You  are  doing 
what  you  think  is  right  and  I  am  proud  of  you.  Tell  these 
people  yourself  to  go  back  to  their  quarters,  behave  them- 
selves and  obey  their  rightful  master.  After  your  words  in 
their  behalf  any  one  who  does  not  obey  deserves  to  be 
shot." 

She  was  disarmed  and  subdued  at  once.  "  Ah,  doctor," 
she  faltered,  tears  in  her  eyes,  "  now  you've  conquered  me." 
Then  turning  towards  the  negroes  she  cried,  "Do  just  as 
Dr.  Ackley  has  said.  Go  quietly  to  work  and  be  patient. 
Uncle  Lusthah,  you  know  I  told  you  to  do  so  before  all  this 
happened.  I  tell  you  so  again  and  shall  expect  you  to  use 
all  your  influence  to  keep  perfect  order." 

"  We  'bey  you,  young  mistis ;  we  tank  you  fer  speakin'  up 
fer  us,"  and  the  old  man  led  the  way  towards  the  quarters, 
followed  by  all  his  flock. 

Dr.  Ackley  gave  his  arm  to  the  girl  and  led  her  to  the 
house.  Captain  Maynard  took  off  his  hat  in  a  very  def- 
erential manner  as  she  passed ;  she  walked  on  unheeding 
the  salutation.  Whately  frowned  at  him  and  dropped  his 
hand  on  the  hilt  of  his  sabre.     At  this  pantomime  Maynard 


278  "MISS  LOU." 

smiled  contemptuously  as  he  walked  away.  In  a  few  mo- 
ments the  scene  was  as  quiet  and  deserted  as  it  had  been 
crowded  and  threatening. 

On  the  way  to  the  house  Miss  Lou  explained  more  fully 
the  circumstances  relating  to  the  dead  soldier,  Yarry,  and 
Ackley  said  good-naturedly,  "  I'll  have  Uncle  Lusthah 
and  two  others  detailed  to  dig  the  grave  and  you  can  carry 
out  your  intentions ;  but,  Miss  Baron,  you  must  be  careful  in 
the  future  how  you  let  your  inexperience  and  enthusiasm 
involve  you  in  conflict  with  all  recognized  authority.  We 
are  safely  out  of  this  scrape ;  I  can't  answer  for  anything 
more." 

"  Believe  me,"  she  said  earnestly,  "  I  don't  wish  to  make 
trouble  of  any  kind,  and  after  your  course  towards  me,  I 
will  seek  to  carry  out  your  orders  in  every  way.  If  I  dared 
I  would  ask  one  favor.  Uncle  Lusthah  is  too  old  to  work  in 
the  field  and  he  is  a  kind  good  old  man.  If  you  would  have 
him  detailed  to  wait  on  the  wounded  "  — 

"  Yes,  yes,  I  will.  You  are  a  brave,  good-hearted  girl  and 
mean  well.  I  shall  rely  on  your  promise  to  work  cordially 
with  me  hereafter.  Now  go  to  your  room  and  get  calm  and 
rested.  You  are  trembling  like  a  frightened  bird.  I'll  see 
your  uncle,  cousin  and  Dr.  Borden.  You  shall  bury  your 
chivalrous  Yank  just  as  you  wish.  Then  all  must  go  accord- 
ing to  regulations." 

She  smiled  as  she  gave  him  her  hand,  saying,  "  You  may 
put  me  under  arrest  if  I  don't  mind  you  in  everything 
hereafter." 

"  Well,"  muttered  the  surgeon,  as  he  looked  after  her,  "  to 
think  that  a  girl  should  have  a  probe  long  and  sharp  enough 
to  go  straight  to  the  heart  of  a  man  of  my  age  !  No  won- 
der Maynard  and  Whately  are  over  head  and  ears." 


"ANGEL    OF  DEATH."  279 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

"angel  of  death." 

IT  would  seem  as  if  the  brief  tempest  of  the  morning  had 
cleared  the  air.  Two  strong  natures  had  asserted  them- 
selves. Surgeon  Ackley's  recognition  of  Miss  Lou's  spirit 
and  the  justice  of  her  plea  turned  out  to  be  as  politic  as  it 
was  sincere  and  unpremeditated.  The  slaves  learned  all 
they  could  hope  from  her  or  any  one  now  in  authority  and 
were  compelled  to  see  the  necessity  of  submission.  Whately 
was  taught  another  lesson  concerning  the  beauties  of  head- 
long action,  while  even  his  egotism  was  not  proof  against  the 
feeling  that  his  cousin's  straightforward  fearlessness  would 
baffle  all  measures  opposed  to  her  sense  of  right.  As  for 
Perkins,  he  began  to  fear  as  well  as  hate  her,  seeing  her  tri- 
umph again.  The  only  reward  of  his  zeal  had  been  Whate- 
ly's  words,  "Get  out  of  the  way,  you  fool."  Thereafter, 
with  the  exception  of  the  girl's  scathing  words,  he  had  been 
ignored.  He  had  been  made  to  feel  that  Ackley's  threats 
had  a  meaning  for  him  as  well  as  for  the  negroes,  and  that 
if  he  needlessly  provoked  trouble  again  he  would  be  con- 
fronted with  the  stern  old  army  surgeon.  Having  known 
Whately  from  a  boy  he  stood  in  little  fear  of  him,  but  was 
convinced  that  he  could  not  trifle  with  Ackley's  patience  an 
instant.  He  now  recognized  his  danger.  In  his  rage  he 
had  forgotten  the  wide  difference  in  rank  between  the  girl 
he  would  injure  and  himself.  The  courtesy  promptly  shown 
to  her  by  Maynard  and  especially  by  the  surgeon-in-chief 


28o  "MISS  LOU. " 

taught  him  that  one  whom  he  had  scarcely  noticed  as  she 
grew  up  a  repressed,  brooding  child  and  girl,  possessed  by 
birth  the  consideration  ever  shown  to  a  Southern  lady.  He 
knew  what  that  meant,  even  if  he  could  not  appreciate  her 
conduct.  Maynard  had  scowled  upon  him ;  Mrs.  Whately 
bestowed  merely  a  glance  of  cold  contempt,  while  her  son 
had  failed  him  utterly  as  an  ally.  He  therefore  sullenly 
drove  his  malice  back  into  his  heart  with  the  feeling  that  he 
must  now  bide  his  time. 

Even  Mr.  Baron  was  curt  and  said  briefly  before  he  left 
the  ground,  "Be  sure  you're  right  before  you  go  ahead. 
Hereafter  give  your  orders  quietly  and  let  me  know  who  dis- 
obeys." 

The  old  planter  was  at  his  wit's  end  about  his  niece,  but 
even  he  was  compelled  to  see  that  his  former  methods  with 
her  would  not  answer.  New  ideas  were  being  forced  upon 
him  as  if  by  surgical  operations.  Chief  among  them  was 
the  truth  that  she  could  no  longer  be  managed  or  restrained 
by  fear  or  mere  authority  on  the  part  of  any  one.  He 
would  look  at  her  in  a  sort  of  speechless  wonder  and  ask 
himself  if  she  were  the  child  to  whom  he  had  supposed 
himself  infallible  so  many  years.  His  wife  kept  on  the  even 
tenor  of  her  way  more  unswervingly  than  any  one  on  the 
place.  She  was  as  incapable  of  Dr.  Ackley's  fine  sentiment 
as  she  was  of  her  nephew's  ungovernable  passion.  She 
neither  hoped  nor  tried  to  comprehend  the  "  perversity  "  of 
her  niece,  yet,  in  the  perplexed  conditions  of  the  time,  she 
filled  a  most  important  and  useful  niche.  Since  the  wounded 
men  were  to  be  fed,  she  became  an  admirable  commissary 
general,  preventing  waste  and  exacting  good  wholesome 
cookery  on  the  part  of  Aun'  Suke  and  her  assistants. 

Poor  Yarry  was  buried  quietly  at  last,  Miss  Lou,  with  Dr. 
Borden,  Captain  Hanfield  and  two  or  three  of  his  comrades 
standing  reverently  by  the  grave  while  Uncle  Lusthah  offered 


"ANGEL   OF  DEATH."  28 1 

his  simple  prayer.  Then  the  girl  threw  upon  the  mound 
some  flowers  she  had  gathered  and  returned  to  her  duties  as 
nurse.  The  remains  of  the  old  Confederate  colonel  were 
sent  to  his  family,  with  the  letter  which  Miss  Lou  had  written 
for  him.  Every  day  the  numbers  in  the  hospital  diminished, 
either  by  death  or  by  removal  of  the  stronger  patients  to  the 
distant  railroad  town.  Those  sent  away  in  ambulances  and 
other  vehicles  impressed  into  the  service  were  looked  after 
by  Surgeon  Ackley  with  official  thoroughness  and  phlegm ; 
in  much  the  same  spirit  and  manner  Dr.  Williams  presided 
over  the  departure  of  others  to  the  bourn  from  which  none 
return,  then  buried  them  with  all  proper  observance.  Uncle 
Lusthah  carried  around  by  a  sort  of  stealth  his  pearl  of 
simple,  vital,  hope-inspiring  faith,  and  he  found  more  than 
one  ready  to  give  their  all  for  it.  The  old  man  pointed 
directly  to  Him  who  "  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world," 
then  stood  aside  that  dying  eyes  might  look.  With  the  best 
intentions  Dr.  Williams,  with  his  religious  formulas,  got 
directly  in  the  way,  bewildering  weak  minds  with  a  creed. 

Mrs.  Whately  and  her  son  went  and  came  from  their 
plantation  and  were  troubled  over  the  condition  of  things 
there.  The  slaves  were  in  a  state  of  sullen,  smouldering 
rebellion  and  several  of  them  had  disappeared.  "  I  fear 
Madison  has  been  too  arbitrary,"  she  admitted  to  her 
brother. 

Mr.  Baron  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  smoked  in  silence. 
Perhaps  his  preposterous  niece  had  not  been  so  crazy 
after  all. 

Between  Maynard  and  Whately  there  were  increasing 
evidences  of  trouble,  which  the  mother  of  the  latter  did  her 
best  to  avert  by  remonstrance  and  entreaty.  On  one  occa- 
sion Whately  had  said  a  little  irritably,  "  I  say,  Dr.  Ackley, 
what's  the  use  of  Maynard's  hanging  around  here  ?  He  is 
almost  well  enough  for  duty." 


282  "MISS  LOU." 

"  It  is  chiefly  out  of  consideration  for  you  that  I  am 
keeping  him,"  replied  the  surgeon  gravely,  in  well  concealed 
mischief.  "  It  is  clear  that  he  has  entered  the  lists  with  you 
for  your  cousin's  hand  and  I  could  not  further  his  suit  better 
than  by  sending  him  away,  especially  if  it  were  suspected 
that  I  did  so  at  your  instigation.  He  is  doing  well  here, 
good-naturedly  helps  me  in  my  writing  and  can  soon  go 
direct  to  his  regiment.  It  seems  to  me  that  your  cousin 
holds  a  pretty  even  balance  between  you,  and  all  a  man 
should  want  is  a  fair  field." 

Whately  walked  frowningly  away,  more  than  ever  con- 
vinced that  the  surgeon  was  too  good  a  friend  of  his  rival  to 
interfere. 

At  the  close  of  the  fourth  day  after  the  battle  there 
was  an  arrival  at  The  Oaks  that  greatly  interested  Miss 
Lou,  —  a  stately,  white-haired  old  lady,  the  mother  of 
Lieutenant  Waldo.  She  was  very  pale  and  it  would  have 
been  hard  for  Surgeon  Ackley  to  meet  her  agonized  look, 
her  shrinking  as  if  from  a  blow,  were  he  unable  to  hold  out 
any  hope. 

"  Mrs.  Waldo,"  he  said  gravely,  "  your  son  is  living  and 
there's  a  chance  of  his  getting  well.  His  cheerfulness 
and  absolute  quiet  of  mind  may  save  him.  If  he  had  fretted 
or  desponded  he  would  have  died  before  this." 

"Yes,"  replied  his  mother  with  a  great  sigh  of  relief,  "I 
know." 

"  Miss  Baron,  will  you  kindly  prepare  Waldo  for  his 
mother's  visit?  Meanwhile,  I  will  tell  her  a  little  about  his 
case  and  our  management  of  it.  He  doesn't  know  that  I 
sent  for  you,  for  I  was  not  sure  you  could  come." 

"Is  this  Miss  Baron  and  one  of  my  son's  nurses?" 

"  Yes,  and  doing  more  for  him  than  I  —  giving  him  all 
the  bovine  nectar  and  honeyed  words  he  can  take." 

"  God  bless  you,  my  dear.    Please  let  me  kiss  you." 


"ANGEL    OF  DEATH."  283 

When  Miss  Lou  entered  Waldo's  tent  he  whispered  with 
a  laugh,  "  It's  four  hours  since  you  were  here." 

"  No,  scarcely  two." 

"  Well,  I'm  as  hungry  as  if  it  were  four  hours." 

"  That's  fine.  You're  getting  right  well.  Will  you  be 
very  good  and  quiet  —  not  a  bit  excited,  if  I  let  some  one 
else  bring  you  your  supper?" 

She  beamed  upon  hiin  so  joyously  that  he  exclaimed 
aloud,  with  a  rush  of  tears,  "Ah  !  mother?  " 

The  girl  nodded  and  said,  "  Now  remember,  don't  break 
her  heart  by  being  worse." 

"Oh,  how  sweet  and  lovely  of  her!  I'll  get  well  now, 
sure." 

"That's  a  nice  way  to  treat  your  old  nurse." 

Smilingly  he  held  out  his  hand  and  said,  "  You  are  almost 
as  pretty  and  good  as  she  is,  but  you  aren't  motlfer."  Then 
he  added  in  strong  sympathy,  "  Forgive  me.  You  haven't 
any,  have  you  ?    You  don't  know  about  this  mother  love." 

"  I  know  enough  about  it  to  have  the  heartache  for  its 
lack.  Now  you  must  save  your  strength  till  she  comes. 
Good-by." 

From  that  hour  he  steadily  gained,  banishing  the  look  of 
anxiety  from  his  mother's  face.  Mrs.  Whately  sighed  as 
she  saw  how  her  niece's  heart  warmed  towards  the  stranger, 
and  how  strong  an  attachment  was  growing  between  them. 
"  Louise  is  drifting  away  from  us  all,"  she  thought,  "  yet  I 
cannot  see  that  she  encourages  Captain  Maynard." 

A  genuine  friendship  had  also  grown  between  the  girl  and 
Captain  Hanfield,  the  Federal  officer,  and  she  was  heartily 
sorry  when  he  told  her  that  he  would  be  sent  to  the  railroad 
town  the  next  day.  "  My  wound  isn't  doing  well  and  I 
seem  to  be  running  down,"  he  explained.  "Dr.  Borden 
has  been  able  to  keep  me  thus  far,  but  I  must  go  to-morrow. 
Perhaps  it's  best.     He  is  trying  to  get  me  paroled.     If  I 


284  "MISS  LOU." 

could  only  get  home  to  my  wife  and  children  I'd  rally  fast 
enough.  I'm  all  run  down  and  this  climate  is  enervating 
to  me." 

She  tried  to  hearten  him  by  kind,  hopeful  words  and  he 
listened  to  her  with  a  wistful  look  on  his  handsome  face. 
"  How  I'd  like  you  to  meet  my  little  girl  \ "  he  said. 
"  Won't  I  make  her  blue  eyes  open  when  I  tell  her  about 
you  ! " 

Another  bond  of  union  between  them  was  the  captain's 
acquaintance  with  Scoville,  and  he  soon  observed  that  she 
listened  very  patiently  and  attentively  when  he  spoke  of  the 
brave  scout's  exploits.  "  I  declare,"  he  had  said,  laughing, 
"  I  keep  forgetting  that  you  are  a  Southern  girl  and  that  you 
may  not  enjoy  hearing  of  the  successes  of  so  active  an 
enemy." 

"  Lieutenant  Scoville  is  not  a  personal  enemy,"  she  had 
replied  guardedly.  "  He  showed  us  all  very  great  kindness, 
me  especially.  I  wish  that  both  you  and  he  were  on  our 
side." 

"  Well,  as  you  say  down  here,  I  reckon  we  are  on  your 
side  any  way,"  had  been  the  captain's  smiling  reply. 

She  spoke  to  Surgeon  Ackley  promptly  about  the  pros- 
pects of  a  parole,  but  he  said,  "Impossible,  Miss  Baron. 
The  question  would  at  once  arise,  '  If  granted  to  Hanfield, 
why  not  to  others  ? '  I  reckon  Borden  has  been  trying  to 
rally  his  friend  by  hopes  even  when  knowing  them  baseless." 

This  proved  to  be  the  case,  and  the  following  day  brought 
the  young  girl  a  strange  and  very  sad  experience.  Dr. 
Borden  appeared  at  breakfast  looking  troubled  and  per- 
plexed. Miss  Lou  immediately  inquired  about  the  captain. 
The  doctor  shook  his  head  saying,  "  He  isn't  so  well.  I'd 
like  to  speak  with  you  by  and  by." 

She  was  so  depressed  by  the  surgeon's  aspect  that  she 
paid  little  heed  to  the  conversation  of  her  two  admirers  and 


" A NGEL    OF  DEATH."  285 

soon  left  the  table.  Borden  followed  her,  and  when  they 
were  alone  began  sadly,  "  Miss  Baron,  perhaps  I  am  going 
to  ask  of  you  far  too  much,  but  you  have  shown  yourself  to 
be  an  unusually  brave  girl  as  well  as  a  kind-hearted  one. 
Hanfield  is  an  old  friend  of  mine  and  perhaps  I've  done 
wrong  to  mislead  him.  But  I  didn't  and  couldn't  foresee 
what  has  happened,  and  I  did  hope  to  start  him  in  genuine 
convalescence,  feeling  sure  that  if  he  got  well  he  would  give 
up  the  hope  of  going  home  as  a  matter  of  course.  So  far 
from  succeeding,  a  fatal  disease  has  set  in  —  tetanus,  lock- 
jaw. He's  dying  and  doesn't  know  it.  I  can't  tell  him. 
I've  made  the  truth  doubly  cruel,  for  I've  raised  false  hopes. 
He  continually  talks  of  home  and  his  pleading  eyes  stab 
me.  You  can  soften  the  blow  to  him,  soothe  and  sustain 
him  in  meeting  what  is  sure  to  come." 

"  Oh,  is  there  no  hope  ?  " 

"  None  at  all.  He  can't  live.  If  you  feel  that  the  ordeal 
would  be  too  painful  —  I  wouldn't  ask  it  if  I  hadn't  seen  in 
you  unexpected  qualities." 

"  Oh,  I  must  help  him  bear  it ;  yet  how  can  I  ?  how 
shall  I?" 

"  Well,  I  guess  your  heart  and  sympathy  will  guide  you. 
I  can't.  I  can  only  say  you  had  better  tell  him  the  whole 
truth.  He  ought  to  know  it  for  his  own  and  family's  sake 
now,  while  perfectly  rational.  Soften  the  truth  as  you  can, 
but  you  can't  injure  him  by  telling  it  plainly,  for  he  will  die. 
God  knows,  were  it  my  case,  the  tidings  wouldn't  seem  so 
very  terrible  if  told  by  a  girl  like  you." 

"  Oh,  but  the  tidings  are  so  terrible  to  speak,  especially 
to  such  a  man.  Think  of  his  beautiful  wife  and  daughter, 
of  his  never  seeing  them  again.  Oh,  it's  just  awful,"  and 
her  face  grew  white  at  the  prospect. 

"  Yes,  Miss  Baron,  it  is.  In  the  midst  of  all  the  blood 
and  carnage  of  the  war,  every  now  and  then  a  case  comes 


286  "MISS  LOU." 

up  which  makes  even  my  calloused  heart  admit,  '  It's  just 
awful.'  I'm  only  seeking  to  make  it  less  awful  to  my  poor 
friend,  and  perhaps  at  too  great  cost  to  you." 

"  Well,  he  on  his  side,  and  others  on  ours,  didn't  count 
the  cost ;  neither  must  I.  I  must  not  think  about  it  or  my 
heart  will  fail  me.     I  will  go  at  once." 

"  Come  then,  and  God  help  you  and  him." 

A  straw-bed  had  been  made  up  in  a  large,  airy  box- 
stall  where  the  captain  could  be  by  himself.  Uncle  Lusthah 
was  in  attendance  and  he  had  just  brought  a  bowl  of 
milk. 

Borden  had  left  Miss  Lou  to  enter  alone.  The  captain 
held  out  his  hand  and  said  cheerfully,  "  Well,  it's  an  ill  wind 
that  blows  nowhere.  This  one  will  blow  me  home  all  the 
sooner  I  trust,  for  it  must  be  plainer  now  than  ever  that  I 
need  the  home  change  which  will  put  me  on  my  feet  again. 
You  needn't  look  so  serious.  I  feel  only  a  little  more  poorly 
than  I  did,  —  sore  throat  and  a  queer  kind  of  stiffness  in  my 
jaws  as  if  I  had  taken  cold  in  them." 

" Do  I  look  very  serious?  "  she  faltered. 

"Yes,  you  look  as  if  troubled  about  something.  But 
there,  see  what  an  egotistic  fellow  I  am  !  As  if  you  hadn't 
troubles  of  your  own  !  pretty  deep  ones  too,  I  fear.  Our 
coming  here  has  given  you  a  wonderful  experience,  Miss 
Baron.  No  matter ;  you've  met  it  like  a  soldier  and  will 
have  much  to  remember  in  after  years.  You  can  never 
become  a  common-place  woman  now  and  there  are  such  a 
lot  of  'em  in  the  world.  When  I  remember  all  you  have 
done  for  us  it  makes  me  ill  to  think  of  some  in  our  town  — 
giggling,  silly  little  flirts,  with  no  higher  ambition  than  to 
strut  down  the  street  in  a  new  dress." 

"  Oh,  don't  think  of  them  or  over-praise  me.  Perhaps  if 
they  had  been  her©  and  compelled  to  face  things  they  would 
have  done  better  than  I.     A  short  time  ago  I  didn't  dream 


"ANGEL   OF  DEATH."  287 

of  these  experiences,  and  then  I  would  have  said  I  couldn't 
possibly  endure  them." 

"  Well,  you  have,"  resumed  the  captain,  who  was  slightly 
feverish,  excited  and  inclined  to  talk.  "  One  of  my  dearest 
hopes  now  is  to  get  back  to  my  little  girl  soon  and  deepen 
her  mind  by  making  her  ashamed  of  the  silly  things  in  a 
girl's  life.  Of  course  I  wish  her  to  be  joyous  and  happy  as 
a  young  thing  should  be,  as  I  think  you  would  be  if  you 
had  the  chance.  By  means  of  your  story  I  can  make  her 
ashamed  ever  to  indulge  in  those  picayune,  contemptible 
feminine  traits  which  exasperate  men.  I  want  her  to  be 
brave,  helpful,  sincere,  like  you,  like  her  mother.  How 
quickly  poor  Yarry  recognized  the  spirit  in  which  you  came 
among  us  at  first !  Jove  !  I  didn't  think  him  capable  of 
such  feeling.  I  tell  you  Miss  Baron,  the  roughest  of  us  rev- 
erence an  unselfish  woman  —  one  who  doesn't  think  of  her- 
self first  and  always.  She  mayn't  be  a  saint,  but  if  she  has 
heart  enough  for  sympathy  and  is  brave  and  simple  enough 
to  bestow  it  just  as  a  cool  spring  gushes  from  the  ground, 
we  feel  she  is  the  woman  God  meant  her  to  be.  Ah,  uncle, 
that  reminds  me  —  another  cup  of  that  cold  water.  For 
some  reason  I'm  awfully  thirsty  this  morning." 

Miss  Lou  listened  with  hands  nervously  clasping  and  un- 
clasping, utterly  at  a  loss  to  know  how  to  tell  the  man, 
dreaming  of  home  and  planning  for  the  future,  that  he  must 
soon  sleep  beside  poor  Yarry.  She  had  already  taken  to 
herself  the  mournful  comfort  that  his  grave  also  should  be 
where  she  could  care  for  it  and  keep  it  green. 

"  I  wish  to  tell  you  more  about  my  little  Sadie  and  my 
wife.  Some  day,  when  this  miserable  war  is  over,  you  will 
visit  us.  We'll  give  you  a  reception  then  which  may  turn 
even  your  head.  Ha  !  ha  !  you  thought  we'd  be  worse  than 
Indians.  Well,  I'll  show  you  a  lot  of  our  squaws  in  full 
evening  dress  and  you'll  own  that  my  wife  is  the  prettiest  in 


288  "MISS  LOU." 

the  tribe.  Every  day,  until  we  started  on  this  blasted  raid, 
I  received  a  letter  from  her.  I  knew  about  as  well  what  was 
going  on  at  home  as  if  there.  With  my  wife  it  was  love 
almost  at  first  sight,  but  I  can  tell  you  that  it's  not  '  out  of 
sight  out  of  mind '  with  us.  Time  merely  adds  to  the  pure, 
bright  flame,  and  such  a  pair  of  lovers  as  we  shall  be  when 
gray  as  badgers  will  be  worth  a  journey  to  you." 

Miss  Lou  could  maintain  her  self-control  no  longer.  She 
burst  into  tears  and  sobbed  helplessly. 

"  You  poor  little  girl,"  exclaimed  the  captain  in  deep 
commiseration.  "  Here  I've  been  talking  like  a  garrulous 
fool  when  your  heart  is  burdened  with  some  trouble  that 
perhaps  you  would  like  to  speak  to  me  about.  Tell  me,  my 
child,  just  as  little  Sadie  would." 

"  My  heart  is  burdened  with  trouble,  captain ;  it  feels  as 
if  it  would  break  when  I  hear  you  talk  so.  Would  to  God 
little  Sadie  were  here,  and  your  beautiful  wife  too  !  Oh, 
what  shall  I  say  ?     How  can  I,  how  can  I  ?  " 

"  Miss  Baron  !  "  he  exclaimed,  looking  at  her  in  vague  alarm. 

"  O  Captain  Hanfield,  you  are  a  brave,  unselfish  man  like 
Yarry.  Don't  make  it  too  hard  for  me.  Oh,  I  feel  as  if  I 
could  scarcely  breathe." 

As  he  saw  her  almost  panting  at  his  side  and  tears  stream- 
ing from  her  eyes,  the  truth  began  to  dawn  upon  him.  He 
looked  at  her  steadily  and  silently  for  a  moment,  then 
reached  out  his  hand  as  he  said  in  an  awed  whisper,  "  Is  it 
on  account  of  me?     Did  Borden  send  you  here? " 

She  took  his  hand,  bowed  her  forehead  upon  it  and  wept 
speechlessly. 

She  felt  it  tremble  for  a  moment,  then  it  was  withdrawn 
and  placed  on  her  bowed  head.  "  So  you  are  the  angel  of 
death  to  me?  "  the  officer  faltered. 

Her  tears  were  her  only,  yet  sufficient  answer.  Both  were 
silent,  she  not  having  the  heart  to  look  at  him. 


"ANGEL    OF  DEATH."  289 

At  last  he  said  in  deep  tones,  "  I  wasn't  expecting  this. 
It  will  make  a  great  change  in"  —  and  then  he  was  silent 
again. 

She  took  his  limp  hand  and  bowed  her  forehead  on  it, 
as  before,  feeling  by  some  fine  instinct  that  her  unspoken 
sympathy  was  best.' 

It  was.  The  brave  man,  in  this  last  emergency,  did  as 
he  would  have  done  in  the  field  at  the  head  of  his  company 
if  subjected  to  a  sudden  attack.  He  promptly  rearranged 
and  marshalled  all  his  faculties  to  face  the  enemy.  There 
was  not  a  moment  of  despairing,  vain  retreat.  In  the  strong 
pressure  upon  his  mind  of  those  questions  which  must  now 
be  settled  once  for  all,  he  forgot  the  girl  by  his  side.  He 
was  still  so  long  that  she  timidly  raised  her  head  and  was 
awed  by  his  stern,  fixed  expression  of  deep  abstraction. 
She  did  not  disturb  him  except  as  the  stifled  sobs  of  her 
deep,  yet  now  passing  agitation  convulsed  her  bosom,  and 
she  began  to  give  her  attention  to  Uncle  Lusthah,  hitherto 
unheeded.  The  old  man  was  on  his  knees  in  a  dusky 
corner,  praying  in  low  tones.  "  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  he's  here," 
she  thought.  "  I'm  glad  he's  praying  God  to  help  us  both." 
In  the  uncalculating  sympathy  and  strength  of  her  nature 
she  had  unconsciously  entered  into  the  dying  man's  expe- 
rience and  was  suffering  with  him.  Indeed,  her  heart  sank 
with  a  deeper  dread  and  awe  than  he  from  the  great  change 
which  he  had  faced  so  often  as  to  be  familiar  with  its 
thought. 

At  last  he  seemed  to  waken  to  her  presence  and  said 
compassionately,  "  Poor  little  girl !  so  all  your  grief  was 
about  me.     How  pale  you  are  !  " 

"  I  do  so  wish  you  could  go  home,"  she  breathed ;  "  I 
am  so  very,  very  sorry." 

"  Well,  Miss  Baron,"  he  replied  with  dignity,  "  I'm  no 
better  than  thousands  of  others.     I  always  knew  this  might 


29O  "MISS  LOU." 

happen  any  day.  You  have  learned  why  it  is  peculiarly  hard 
for  me  —  but  that's  not  to  be  thought  of  now.  If  I've  got 
my  marching  orders,  that's  enough  for  a  soldier.  It  was 
scarcely  right  in  Borden  to  give  you  this  heavy  task.  I 
could  have  faced  the  truth  from  his  lips." 

"  He  felt  so  dreadfully  about  it,"  she  replied.  "  He  said 
he  had  been  giving  you  false  hopes  in  trying  to  make  you 
get  well." 

"  Oh  yes,  he  meant  kindly.  Well,  if  it  hasn't  been  too 
much  for  you,  I'm  glad  you  told  me.  Your  sympathy,  your 
face,  will  be  a  sweet  memory  to  carry,  God  only  knows 
where.  Since  it  can't  be  little  Sadie's  face  or  my  wife's  I'm 
glad  it's  yours.  What  am  I  saying?  as  if  I  should  forget 
their  dear  faces  through  all  eternity." 

"  Ah  !  captain,  I  wish  you  could  hear  one  of  our  soldiers 
talk.     Dying  with  him  just  means  going  to  Heaven." 

The  officer  shook  his  head.  "  I'm  not  a  Christian,"  he 
said  simply. 

"  Neither  am  I,"  she  replied,  "  but  I've  been  made  to 
feel  that  being  one  is  very  different  from  what  I  once 
thought  it  was." 

"  Well,  Miss  Baron,  what  is  it  to  be  a  Christian  —  what  is 
your  idea  of  it  ?  There  has  always  seemed  to  me  such  a 
lot  of  conflicting  things  to  be  considered — well,  well,  I 
haven't  given  the  subject  thought  and  it's  too  late  now. 
I  must  give  my  mind  to  my  family  and  "  — 

Uncle  Lusthah  stepped  before  him  with  clasped  hands 
and  quivering  lips.  "  Ef  marse  cap'n  des  list'n  ter  de  ole 
man  a  minit.  I  ain'  gwine  ter  talk  big  en  long.  I  kyant. 
I  des  wanter  say  I  hab  'sperance.  Dat  sump'n,  marse 
cap'n,  you  kyant  say  not'n  agin  —  rale  'sperance,  sump'n  I 
knows" 

"  Well,  you  kind  old  soul,  what  do  you  know?  " 

"  P'raps  des  what  mars'r  knows  ef  he  ony  tinks  a  111. 


"  ANGEL   OF  DEA  TIL  "  29 1 

Let  us  git  right  down  ter  de  root  ob  de  marter,  kaze  I 
feared  dere  ain'  time  fer  'locutions." 

"  Now  you're  right  at  least,  uncle.  I  must  set  my  house 
in  order.     I  must  write  to  my  wife." 

"  Marse  cap'n,  you  gwine  on  a  journey.  Wat  yo'  wife 
wish  mo'n  dat  you  git  ready  fer  de  journey  ?  She  tek  dat  jour- 
ney too,  bime  by  soon,  en  you  bof  be  at  de  same  deah  home." 

"Ah,  uncle,  if  that  could  be  true,  the  sting  of  death 
would  be  gone." 

"  Sut'ny,  marse  cap'n.  Didn't  I  know  dat  ar  w'en  I  mek 
bole  ter  speak  ?  Now  des  tink  on  hit,  mars'r.  Yere  I  is, 
an  ole  ign'rant  slabe,  kyant  eben  read  de  good  Book.  De 
worl'  full  ob  poor  folks  lak  me.  Does  you  tink  ef  de  Lawd 
mean  ter  sabe  us  't  all  He'd  do  hit  in  some  long  rouner-bout 
way  dat  de  wise  people  kyant  mos'  fin'  out?  No,  bress 
He  gret  big  heart,  He  des  stan'  up  en  say  to  all,  'Come  ter 
me  en  I  gib  you  res'." 

"  Yes,  uncle,  but  I  haven't  gone  to  Him.  I  don't  know 
how  to  go,  and  what's  more,  I  don't  feel  it's  right  to  go  now 
at  the  last  minute  as  if  driven  by  fear." 

"  Now  cap'n,  fergib  de  ole  man  fer  sayin'  you  all  wrong. 
Haint  young  mistis  been  breakin'  her  lil  gyurlish  heart 
ober  yo'  trouble?  Am  de  Lawd  dat  die  fer  us  wuss'n  a 
graven  himage?  Doan  He  feel  fer  you  mo'n  we  kin?  I 
reck'n  you  got  des  de  bes'  kin'  of  prep'ration  ter  go  ter 
'Im.  You  got  trouble.  How  He  act  towards  folks  dat  hab 
trouble  —  ev'y  kin'  ob  trouble?  Marse  cap'n,  I  des  knows 
dat  de  Lawd  wanter  brung  you  en  yo'  wife  en  dat  lil  Sadie 
I  year  you  talk  'bout  all  togeder  whar  He  is.  I  des  knows 
hit.     Hit's  'sperance." 

"  Miss  Baron,"  said  the  captain  calmly,  "  Isn't  it  wonder- 
ful? This  old  slave  says  he  knows  what,  if  true,  is  worth 
more  to  me  than  all  the  accumulated  wisdom  of  the  world. 
What  do  you  think  of  it?  " 


292  "MISS  LOU." 

"  It  seems  as  if  it  ought  to  be  true,"  she  answered 
earnestly.  "  I  never  so  felt  before  that  it  ought  to  be  true. 
We  never  should  have  been  born,  or  given  such  love  as  you 
have  for  your  dear  ones,  if  it  isn't  true.  Oh,  to  be  just 
snatched  hopelessly  away  from  such  ties  is  horrible.  My 
whole  soul  revolts  at  it." 

"See  here,  uncle,"  said  the  captain  almost  sternly,  "I'm 
not  going  to  groan,  sigh,  weep,  and  take  on  in  any  of  your 
camp-meeting  tactics.  I  am  before  the  last  great  enemy 
and  I  know  how  to  meet  him  like  a  man  and  soldier,  if  not 
a  Christian.  I'm  willing  to  do  anything  not  insincere  or 
unmanly  to  meet  my  wife  and  children  again.  If  my  thought 
and  feeling  for  them  at  this  time  isn't  right,  then  I've  been 
created  wrong." 

"  Marse  cap'n,  I'se  seen  de  mos'  po'ful  feelin's  en  mis- 
eries ob  de  'victed  ones  vaperate  lak  de  mawnin'  dew  en 
I'se  larn  in  my  ole  age  dat  de  sabin  po'r  ain'  in  we  uns, 
ner  in  any  ting  we  is  ob  oursefs  ner  in  w'at  we  po'  lil  chil'n 
of  yearth  kin  do.  De  Lawd  say,  He  come  ter  seek  en  sabe 
de  loss ;  I  wuz  loss.  De  wuss  ting  He  enemies  cud  speak 
agin  'Im  wuz,  Dis  man  'ceiveth  sinners :  I  wuz  a  sinner. 
I  des  arst  'Im  ter  sabe  me,  en  He  did.  I  des  trus'  'Im  fer 
life  en  death  en  does  de  bes'  I  kin.  Dat's  all.  But  hit's 
'sperance,  marse  cap'n,  en  I  knows  hit.  Now,  marse  cap'n, 
w'at  fo'  you  go  way  in  de  dark,  you  dunno  whar?  De 
bressed  Lawd  say,  I  go  ter  prepare  a  place  fer  you.  Now 
you  des  let  young  mistis  write  ter  yo'  folks  dat  you  gwine 
wid  Jesus  ter  dat  ar  place  en  dat  you  gwine  ter  wait  fer  dem 
dar  en  welcome  um  home  bimeby  des  lak  dey  wud  welcome 
you  home  way  up  Norf.  Dat  ud  comf  t  em  a  heap,  en  hit's 
all  true.  I  knows  hit.  Young  mistis  berry  sens'ble  w'en  she 
say  we  neber  orter  be  bawn  ef  hit  ain'  true." 

The  officer  looked  fixedly  at  the  tearful,  wrinkled  face 
for  a  few  moments  and  then  said  firmly,  "  I'll  soon  find  out 


"  ANGEL    OF  DEA  TIL  "  293 

if  it's  true.  If  I  do  this  thing  at  all,  I'll  do  it  in  the  only 
way  I  can.  Miss  Baron,  you  may  write  to  my  wife  that  I 
accept  her  faith.  It's  much  the  same  as  Uncle  Lusthah's  — 
too  simple  and  unphilosophical,  I  used  to  think ;  but  it 
meets  my  need  now.  I  can't  deal  even  with  God  in  any 
other  way  than  this.  The  mind  he  has  endowed  me  with 
revolts  at  anything  else  as  hypocritical.  I  can  and  do  say 
that  I  will  accept  in  grateful,  downright  sincerity  the  terms 
which  Uncle  Lusthah  accepted,  which  my  wife  accepted. 
I  submit  myself  to  His  will.  I  do  this  calmly,  as  I  would 
give  my  hand  and  pledge  my  faith  to  a  man,  and  I  cannot 
do  any  more.  Now  He  may  do  with  me  as  He  pleases. 
Miss  Baron,  you  do  the  same  and  you'll  be  just  as  good  — 
yes,  a  much  better  Christian  than  I,  for  I've  done  rough, 
bad  things  in  my  life.  Don't  you  wait  till  you're  in  my 
extremity.  I  must  say  that  I  have  a  wretched  sense  of  self- 
contempt  that  I  am  looking  Heavenward  with  dying  eyes. 
There's  only  one  thing  that  reconciles  me  to  it  —  the  words 
'  Our  Father.'  God  knows  that  I'd  open  my  arms  to  my 
little  Sadie  under  any  possible  circumstances.  What  the  old 
man  here  says  must  be  true,  for  to  trifle  with  or  mock  a  man 
in  my  position  presupposes  a  degree  of  malignity  inconceiv- 
able. I  ask  nothing  better  than  that  Christ  will  receive  me 
as  I  would  receive  my  child  from  world-wide  wandering." 

"Ah,  bress  He  big  gret  heart,"  cried  Uncle  Lusthah, 
dropping  on  his  knees,  "  w'en  yo'  fader  en  yo'  moder  forsook 
you  den  de  Lawd  took  you  up." 

"  Miss  Baron,  I  wish  to  think  a  while  and  learn  from 
Borden  just  how  much  time  I  have  left.  You  will  come  to 
me  again  ?  " 

"  Yes,  whenever  you  wish." 

"  Well,  then,  good-by  for  a  short  time.  Thank  God  for 
sending  me  such  an  angel  of  death.  You  stay  with  me, 
uncle,  till  I  send  you  for  Borden." 


294  "MISS  LOU." 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

GLIMPSES  OF   MOODS  AND  MINDS. 

DR.  BORDEN'S  predictions  were  verified  in  regard  to 
his  friend  and  patient,  Captain  Hanfield,  but  not  before 
the  officer  had  dictated  calm,  farewell  letters  to  his  wife  and 
"  little  Sadie."  To  Miss  Lou  were  left  the  serene,  smiling 
likenesses,  a  grave  to  be  cared  for  beside  Yarry's,  and  a 
memory  that  could  never  be  blotted  out.  She  was  kept 
from  witnessing  the  terrible  convulsions  which  began  soon 
after  her  interview,  but  was  present  at  his  death  and  held 
his  hand  until  it  was  cold  and  lifeless. 

Within  two  weeks  after  the  battle  very  few  patients  were 
left,  and  all  these  were  to  go  with  Dr.  Ackley  on  the  follow- 
ing day,  Lieutenant  Waldo  excepted.  He  was  still  too  weak 
to  be  moved.  His  mother  had  become  so  skilful  in  the 
care  of  his  wound  that  she  would  be  competent,  with  the 
help  of  an  aged  resident  practitioner,  to  carry  him  through 
his  convalescence.  Mrs.  Whately  now  spent  most  of  the 
time  on  her  plantation,  her  presence  being  needed  there  to 
remedy  the  effects,  as  far  as  possible,  of  the  harsh  measures 
at  first  adopted  by  her  son.  It  was  discouraging  effort. 
The  strong  ebb  tide  in  the  old  order  of  things  had  set  in 
even  far  from  the  Union  lines,  and  only  the  difficulty  in 
reaching  them  prevented  a  general  stampede  of  the  negroes. 
As  it  was,  two  or  three  of  her  best  hands  would  steal  away 
from  time  to  time,  and  run  the  gantlet  of  many  dangers  in 
their  travel  by  night  Northward.     Her  attempts  to  mollify 


GLIMPSES  OF  MOODS  AND  MINDS.  295 

and  render  her  slaves  contented  were  more  than  counter- 
balanced by  the  threats  and  severity  of  her  son,  who  was 
too  vacillating  to  adopt  a  fixed  policy,  and  arbitrary  by 
nature. 

Her  chief  hope  for  him  still  centered  in  Miss  Lou,  upon 
whom  his  thoughts  were  fixed  with  a  steadfastness  and  ear- 
nestness which  his  mother  fondly  believed  would  win  her 
eventually.  "  I'm  sure,"  she  reasoned,  "  Captain  Maynard 
has  made  no  deep  impression.  He  is  about  to  depart.  All 
will  soon  be  gone,  and  the  old  monotony  of  plantation 
life  will  be  resumed.  After  what  has  happened  Louise  will 
not  be  able  to  endure  this.  Madison  will  return,  older  and 
wiser  from  experience  and  she,  with  nothing  else  to  occupy 
her  thoughts  will  react,  like  all  impulsive  natures,  from  her 
opposition.  Next  to  winning  her  or  her  favor  from  the 
start,  he  has  scored  a  success  in  waking  a  hostility  far 
removed  from  fatal  indifference." 

She  maintained  an  affectionate  manner  towards  her  niece 
and  never  discussed  the  hope  she  entertained  and  expecta- 
tion of  calling  her  daughter.  In  truth,  she  had  won  the 
girl's  respect  and  good-will  in  a  very  high  degree.  She  had 
been  a  kind  and  successful  nurse  among  the  wounded,  con- 
fining her-  efforts  chiefly  to  the  Confederates.  She  had  also 
been  a  dignified  lady  in  all  the  scenes  they  had  passed 
through.  Her  weakness  was  her  son,  yet  the  girl  was  com- 
pelled to  admit  that  it  was  the  weakness  of  love.  In  seeking 
to  bring  about  the  detested  union  a  motherly  heart  and 
feeling  towards  her  had  ever  been  apparent. 

The  girl  was  already  becoming  depressed  by  a  presenti- 
ment of  the  dull,  stagnant  days  to  come.  Scoville  had  been 
lost  in  the  great  outside,  unknown  world  completely.  She 
was  suffering  from  reaction  after  the  strong  excitements  and 
fatigues  of  her  experience.  Her  two  lovers,  remaining  on 
the  scene,  possessed  a  sort  of  goading  interest  which  com- 


296  "MISS  LOU." 

pelled  her  to  think  of  them,  but  she  contemplated  their  near 
departure  without  regret.  Nothing  in  her  nature  answered 
to  their  looks,  words  and  evident  desires.  She  felt  that  she 
would  as  soon  marry  one  as  the  other  and  that  she  would 
rather  be  buried  beside  Captain  Hanfield  and  take  the  jour- 
ney of  which  Uncle  Lusthah  had  quaintly  spoken  than  wed 
either.  Yet  in  her  lassitude  she  feared  that  she  could  now  be 
compelled  to  marry  either  or  any  one  if  enough  active  force 
was  employed,  so  strangely  had  ebbed  her  old  fearless  spirit. 

It  was  with  a  kind  of  wondering  pity  that  she  looked  at 
Maynard  and  saw  the  evidences  of  an  honest,  ardent  attach- 
ment. "Why  does  he  feel  so?"  she  asked  herself.  "I 
have  done  nothing  for  him,  given  no  encouragement,  and 
would  not  care  if  I  never  saw  him  again.  I  merely  wish 
him  well,  as  I  do  so  many  others.  Why  can't  he  see  this, 
and  just  act  on  the  truth?  He  says  he  is  coming  to  see  me 
every  chance  he  gets  and  tries  to  make  me  feel  that  he'll 
never  give  me  up.  Perhaps  if  I  should  let  him  speak  plainly 
he  would  see  how  useless  it  all  would  be." 

Circumstances  apparently  favored  the  half-formed  pur- 
pose. Languid  from  the  heat  of  the  day,  she  went  out 
on  the  piazza  after  supper,  sat  down  on  the  upper  step 
and  leaned  against  a  rose  entwined  pillar.  Maynard  was 
entranced  by  the  picture  she  made  and  promptly  availed 
himself  of  the  opportunity.  Every  one  else  had  disappeared 
except  Zany,  of  whom  glimpses  could  be  caught  through  the 
open  windows  of  the  supper-room ;  but  she  did  not  count. 
Sitting  on  a  lower  step  so  as  to  be  in  a  measure  at  her  feet 
Maynard  began. 

"  Miss  Baron,  I  am  thinking  very  sadly,  if  you  are  not, 
over  the  fact  that  I  am  to  go  away  in  the  morning." 

"  Yes,"  she  replied,  half-consciously  ignoring  his  personal 
view,  "  the  old  house  and  plantation  will  soon  be  as  quiet 
and  deserted  as  before." 


GLIMPSES  OF  MOODS  AND  MINDS.  297 

"  Do  you  regret  this  ?  " 

"  I  scarcely  know.  I  am  very  tired  and  feel  sad  over  all 
that  has  happened.  Perhaps  I'll  feel  differently  by  and  by, 
when  I've  rested  and  had  time  to  think." 

"O  Miss  Baron,  if  you  knew  how  earnestly  I  hope  to 
be  remembered  in  those  thoughts,  to  give  you  something 
definite  to  think  of." 

She  had  scarcely  the  energy  to  check  him,  the  thought 
occurring  more  than  once,  "  I  might  just  as  well  let  him 
speak  his  mind  and  see  how  vain  his  hope  is." 

"You  have  not  given  me  encouragement,"  he  resumed. 
"You  have  seemed  too  preoccupied,  sad  or  weary;  but 
this  phase  of  your  life  will  pass  away.  Our  glorious  cause 
must  soon  be  crowned  with  success.  If  I  survive,  may  I 
not  hope  that  when  I  come  again  you  will  give  me  a  hearing, 
a  chance?  I  can  be  patient,  even  though  not  patient  by 
nature.     I  will  do  all  that  a  man  "  — 

"  Captain,"  interrupted  the  girl,  at  last,  "  I  suppose,  from 
the  books  I've  read,  I  should  make  some  fine  speeches 
about  the  honor  you  are  bestowing  on  me,  and  all  that. 
I'm  too  tired  and  sad  for  anything  conventional  and  appro- 
priate. I'm  just  going  to  answer  you  like  a  simple,  honest 
girl.  One  of  my  chief  reasons  for  sadness  now  is  that  you 
feel  as  you  do.  I  see  no  reason  for  it.  I'm  glad  you  say 
I've  given  you  no  encouragement,  for  I  know  I  have  not. 
Why  should  you  care  so  for  me  when  I  do  not  and  cannot 
respond  at  all?  I  do  sincerely  wish  you  well,  but  it  seems 
to  me  that  it  should  be  enough  for  a  man  when  a  girl  listens 
to  such  words  as  yours  in  weary  sadness  only." 

"  It  may  be  hard  indeed  for  a  man  to  recognize  this 
truth,  Miss  Baron,  but  I  am  not  speaking  of  the  present  — 
of  the  future  rather.  There  has  been  much  to  make  you 
sad  and  weary.  Your  very  youth  and  high  spirit  will  soon 
lead  you  to  react  from  your  present  depression.     Let  me 


298  "MISS  LOU." 

speak  of  the  future.  Please  let  me  fill  that  with  hope  for 
you  and  for  me." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  the  future.  For  some  reason 
I  dread  even  to  think  of  it." 

At  this  instant  Whately  galloped  to  the  piazza,  threw  the 
reins  on  the  neck  of  his  horse  as  he  dismounted,  evidently 
not  caring  in  his  perturbation  where  the  animal  wandered. 
He  was  in  a  bad  mood,  for  things  were  not  going  smoothly 
at  home.  The  attitude  of  his  rival  at  his  cousin's  feet  stung 
him  into  a  jealous  rage  and  he  remarked  bitterly  as  he  strode 
past  them,  "Don't  let  my  inopportune  arrival  disturb  this 
charming  tete-a-tete.  In  fact,  I  had  no  business  to  remain 
at  my  uncle's  home  at  all,  even  at  the  call  of  duty,  after 
Captain  Maynard  signified  his  intention  of  making  it  the 
long  continued  field  of  his  operations." 

Cut  to  the  quick,  Maynard  sprang  to  his  feet,  but  Miss  Lou 
merely  made  a  gesture  of  annoyance  and  went  to  her  room. 

"Lieutenant  Whately,"  began  the  captain  in  low,  stern 
tones,  "  were  I  not  in  some  sense  a  guest,  even  though  an 
unwelcome  one  "  — 

"  You  are  no  guest  of  mine,  sir,  nor  indeed  of  any  one 
that  I  am  aware  of." 

"Thank  you.  I  was  haunted  by  some  restraining  con- 
sideration of  Southern  hospitality,  but  if  I  am  free  "  — 

"You  are  perfectly  free,  sir,"  again  interrupted  Whately, 
dropping  his  hand  on  the  hilt  of  his  sabre.  "  Let  me  also 
add  that  a  Southern  gentleman  would  not  have  made  South- 
ern hospitality  a  subterfuge  for  an  opportunity  to  press  a 
suit  repugnant  to  the  family  concerned.  We  have  never 
failed  in  hospitality  to  any  invited  guest." 

"  Your  words  are  offensive,  sir." 

"  I  mean  them  to  be  so." 

"Very  well;  then  I  have  but  one  answer.  I  challenge 
you.    Choose  your  weapons,  hour  and  place  of  meeting." 


GLIMPSES  OF  MOODS  AND  MINDS.  299 

"  Revolvers,  if  you  please.  Meet  me  back  of  the  grove 
yonder,  at  the  right  of  the  house,  at  daybreak." 

"  I'll  not  fail  you.  There  is  no  need  of  seconds  in  this 
affair  I  take  it,  and  we  are  to  keep  our  purpose  secret.  Dr. 
Ackley  would  interfere  and  the  family  be  distressed  were 
our  intentions  known." 

"  No  one  need  know  till  our  shots  are  heard  and  then  it 
will  be  too  late  to  interfere.  I  insist  that  we  fight  to  the 
death." 

"  Certainly,  if  that's  your  wish.     Good-evening,  sir." 

"Good-evening,"  and  Whately  went  to  his  room  to  re- 
move the  dust  of  his  ride  and  prepare  for  the  late  supper 
which  his  aunt  had  ordered  for  him. 

This  lady,  hearing  his  step  in  the  hall,  hastened  down 
stairs  and  called  for  Zany.  "  Yassum,"  came  in  quick 
response.  The  young  woman  emerged  from  the  dining- 
room  looking  as  stolid  as  a  wooden  image. 

"  Attend  to  Lieutenant  Whately's  supper  and  see  that  he 
has  the  best  you  can  get  for  him." 

"  Yassum." 

Mrs.  Baron  then  repaired  to  her  husband's  office,  where 
he  and  Surgeon  Ackley  were  closeted,  making  up  the  ac- 
counts relating  to  the  occupation  of  the  property  for  hospital 
purposes.  Maynard  lighted  his  pipe,  and  strolled  out  into 
the  grounds.  He  was  in  a  cold,  deadly  mood  of  anger. 
There  was  just  enough  sting  of  truth  in  Whately's  words  to 
make  the  insult  unendurable.  Added  to  this  was  intense 
exasperation  that  he  had  been  interrupted  at  a  critical  and 
as  he  believed,  a  hopeful,  moment.  He  had  seen  that  the 
girl  was  not  ready  for  his  suit  or  that  of  any  one  at  present, 
but  was  quite  sure  he  could  have  won  permission  to  renew  his 
addresses  in  the  future.  Now  —  well,  he  was  ready  enough 
to  fight  to  the  death  and  utterly  oblivious  of  the  still,  serene 
beauty  of  the   night.     He  appeared  but  a  shadow  as  he 


300  "MISS  LOU." 

walked  quietly  under  the  trees,  but  it  was  a  shadow  of  death. 
An  hour  since  and  he  was  but  a  passionate  youth,  full  of 
ardent  love  and  longing,  vaguely  inspired,  under  the  influ- 
ence of  his  passion,  towards  all  noble  enthusiasms.  At  the 
touch  of  a  few  words  his  heart  overflowed  with  bitterness, 
and  a  cold,  vindictive  hate  rendered  the  hours  interminable 
till  he  could  aim  a  bullet  at  his  rival's  heart,  reckless  mean- 
time that  another  bullet  was  aimed  at  his. 

In  his  walk  he  passed  the  tent  in  which  Lieutenant  Waldo 
and  his  mother  were  talking  quietly  of  their  home  and  the 
prospects  of  maintaining  it  during  the  troublous  times  clearly 
foreseen. 

"  Mother,"  said  Waldo,  "  have  you  any  definite  idea  as  to 
the  success  of  our  arms  ?  " 

"  No,  Vincent,  nor  do  I  suppose  we  can  at  this  remote 
plantation.  We  only  know  that  there  is  heavy  fighting  at 
various  points  and  great  successes  are  claimed ;  but  it  seems 
very  hard  to  get  at  the  real  truth.  Our  chief  confidence 
must  be  in  the  sacredness  and  justness  of  our  cause  and  in 
the  prayers  of  so  many  sincere  hearts  to  the  God  of  justice. 
In  giving  you,  my  son,  to  our  country,  when  you  were 
scarcely  more  than  a  boy,  you  can  understand  why  I  feel 
that  such  sacrifices  cannot  be  in  vain.  Now  that  I  have 
watched  beside  you  in  your  patient,  heroic  suffering,  the 
feeling  becomes  a  conviction  that  our  sunny  land  must 
be  enriched  and  blessed  for  all  time  by  such  blood  as 
yours." 

"  Well,  mother,  I  do  not  begrudge  my  blood  or  my  life. 
You  have  taught  me  that  to  die  is  gain ;  but  almost  hourly 
I  pray  for  recovery  that  I  may  soon  rejoin  my  regiment  and 
do  more  towards  achieving  our  liberty.  How  strange  it  is 
that  men  of  the  North  should  be  animated  by  much  the 
same  spirit !  Miss  Baron  has  been  showing  me  the  lovely 
faces  of  the  wife  and  daughter  of  a  Federal  officer  who  died 


GLIMPSES  OF  MOODS  AND  MINDS.  301 

heroically  a  few  days  ago.  She  says  the  war  is  all  a  dreadful 
mystery  to  her." 

"  I  am  beginning  to  understand  her  better,"  replied  Mrs. 
Waldo  musingly,  "  for  to  some  extent  she  has  given  me  her 
confidence.  If  she  had  been  brought  up  as  you  have  been 
she  would  feel  as  you  do.  I  can  see  why  her  uncle  and 
aunts  have  not  won  her  sympathy,  while  her  cousin's  conduct 
has  been  well  calculated  to  alienate  her.  I  can  also  under- 
stand why  the  negroes  on  the  place  have  so  enlisted  her 
sympathy.  I  do  not  think  they  have  been  treated  very 
harshly,  but  it  is  too  clear  that  they  are  regarded  simply  as 
property  and  Mr.  Baron  has  allowed  himself  to  be  repre- 
sented among  them  by  a  brutal,  coarse-fibered  man.  If 
she  had  been  your  sister  and  had  witnessed  the  spirit  in 
which  our  slaves  are  governed  and  cared  for  she  would  feel 
as  you  do,  not  vindictive  hatred  of  the  North  —  such  feeling 
is  not  permissible  towards  any  of  the  human  race  —  but  a 
stern,  lofty  spirit  of  independence,  such  as  our  fathers  had 
in  separating  from  England." 

"  Well,  she  is  a  brave,  good  girl  mother,  and  has  been  as 
kind  to  me  as  if  I  were  her  brother." 

"  Very  true,  Vincent.  She  is  a  remarkably  good  girl  for 
one  brought  up  as  she  has  been.  She  has  told  me  much 
about  her  past  repressed,  unhappy  life.  I  hope  she  may 
visit  us  some  day." 

Meantime,  the  subject  of  this  conversation  sat  at  her 
window  looking  out  into  the  warm,  fragrant,  starlit  night. 
The  words  of  Maynard,  the  passionate  resentment  of  her 
cousin  towards  the  young  captain  merely  added  to  the  heavy 
burden  of  experience  which  had  been  crowded  into  the  past 
few  weeks.  "  Oh,"  she  sighed  longingly,  "  if  I  could  only 
see  Allan  Scoville  !  He  is  so  strong,  unselfish  and  restful. 
I  could  tell  him  every  thing.  He  would  know  just  how 
weary  and  depressed  I  am,  nor  would  he  want  me  to  do 


302  "MISS  LOU." 

what  I  can't,  what  I'm  not  ready  for.  Oh,  what  a  blessed 
thing  it  would  be  to  have  a  friend  near  who  wasn't  always 
exacting  or  expecting  or  passionately  urging  something  or 
other.  I  wouldn't  need  urging  in  his  case,  and  would  even 
know  his  hand  would  be  the  first  to  restrain  me  for  my  own 
good.  Where  is  he  now?  Oh,  he'd  be  here  if  my  thoughts 
could  bring  him,  yet  my  two  lovers  would  be  eager  to  take 
his  life.  Lovers  indeed  !  Well,  it's  a  strange,  tangled  up 
world  that  I'm  learning  about." 

Meantime  Zany,  bursting  with  her  secret,  was  unable  to 
tell  any  one,  and  not  yet  sure  she  wished  to  tell.  For  one 
at  her  point  of  civilization  her  motives  were  a  little  com- 
plex and  sophisticated.  In  a  vicarious  way  she  felt  not  a 
little  the  elation  of  many  a  high-born  dame  that  two  men 
were  about  to  fight  over  her  young  mistress,  regarding  it  as 
an  undeniable  compliment.  She  was  also  inclined  to  indulge 
the  cynical  thought  that  it  might  save  Miss  Lou,  Scoville, 
Chunk,  indeed  all  in  whom  she  was  interested  —  further 
trouble  if,  as  she  phrased  it,  "  Dat  ar  young  cap'n  gib  Mad 
Whately  he  way  onst  too  of  un.  He  des  natchelly  bawn  ter 
mek  folks  trouble  en  I  reck'n  we  git  on  wid  he  spook  bettah 
ner  hesef." 

Whately  would  not  have  relished  his  supper  if  he  had 
divined  the  thoughts  of  his  waitress.  As  it  was,  he  had  little 
appetite  for  it  and  paid  his  respects  chiefly  to  his  uncle's 
decanter.  He  felt  no  need  of  false  courage,  but  was  irri- 
tated and  depressed  over  the  general  aspect  of  affairs,  and 
here  was  an  easy  way  of  raising  his  spirits.  By  the  time  he 
was  ready  to  dispense  with  Zany's  services  he  was  so  affected 
by  his  potations  that  his  aunt,  who  had  appeared  on  the 
scene,  hastened  his  retirement.  He  told  the  sergeant  of 
the  guard  to  have  him  called  at  day-break  and  was  soon 
asleep. 

The  indomitable  houskeeper,  Mrs.  Baron,  kept  the  girl 


GLTMrSES  OF  MOODS  AND   MINDS.  $0$ 

busy  until  everything  was  put  away  and  the  dining-room  in 
perfect  order.  Meantime  Zany  concluded  that  she  had 
better  tell  Miss  Lou.  Her  young  mistress  might  blame  her 
severely  if  she  did  not,  and  keeping  such  a  secret  over  night 
would  also  be  a  species  of  torture. 

When  she  was  dismissed  she  watched  her  opportunity, 
whisked  up  to  Miss  Lou's  room,  and  was  glad  to  find  the  girl 
still  awake. 

"O  Miss  Lou,"  she  whispered  breathlessly,  "I  des  got 
de  orfulest,  quarest  news,  en  I  darsn't  kep  hit  eny  longer. 
Marse  cap'n  en  Mad  Whately  gwine  ter  fight  'bout  you  fo' 
sun-up." 

"What!" 

"  Dey  sut'ny  is.  Dey  gwine  ter  fight  one  a  noder  'bout 
you  wid  'volvers  —  fight  ter  de  deth  dey  said.  I  yeared 
dem  troo  de  dine-room  winders." 

"  O  Zany  !  this  is  horrible  !  " 

"  Hit  mout  be  wuss.  Yo'  cousin  hot  fer  hit.  He  say 
orful  tings  ter  marse  cap'n  who  didn't  gib  back  a  inch  en 
sez,  sez  he,  '  I  dialling  you.  Shoose  yo'  weapons  en  place 
ob  meetin'.'  Dem  he  berry  words.  Den  yo'  cousin  shose 
'volvers  en  de  far  side  ob  de  grobe  up  dar  en  said  '  vve  fight 
ter  de  deth.'  Deth  useter  seem  orful,  Miss  Lou,  but  sech  a 
heap  ob  mens  die  dat  ef  Mad  Whately  des  set  on  dyin', 
w'y  not  let  'im  hab  he  way?  Dat  orter  suit  'im  bes'.  I 
reck'n  he  mek  we  uns  en  Marse  Scoville  en  Chunk  berry  lil 
trouble  arter  he  dead." 

"  Zany,  Zany,  that's  a  dreadful  way  to  look  at  it.  You 
should  know  better.  This  meeting  must  be  prevented. 
Where  is  my  cousin?  " 

"  He  des  sound  a  sleep  ez  a  log,"  and  she  made  it  clear 
that  there  would  be  no  use  in  trying  to  remonstrate  with 
him. 

"  Where's  Captain  Maynard?" 


304  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Dunno.  Sleepin  in  he  tent  too,  'spose.  Hit  too  late 
now  Miss  Lou  ter  do  any  ting  fo'  mawnin'." 

The  girl  thought  deeply  a  few  moments  and  then  mut- 
tered, "Shame  on  them  both  !  " 

"  Dar  now,  Miss  Lou,  you  doan  reckermember  dey  payin' 
you  a  big  compelment." 

"  I  shall  tell  them  to  their  faces  how  I  regard  this  outrage 
rather.  Still,  for  their  sakes,  as  well  as  my  own,  I  will  keep 
the  affair  quiet  if  I  can.  Zany,  you  must  stay  with  me 
to-night  and  at  the  earliest  dawn  we  must  watch  them  and 
be  on  the  ground  as  soon  as  they  are." 

"  Berry  well,  Miss  Lou.     I  lak  not'n  bettah." 

"  Go  to  sleep,  then.    I  won't  sleep  to-night." 


THE  DUELISTS   VANQUISHED.  305 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

THE   DUELISTS   VANQUISHED. 

ZANY'S  tidings  brought  the  spur  of  a  great  necessity  to 
Miss  Lou's  jaded  spirit,  and  as  her  waking  thoughts 
dwelt  on  the  proposed  encounter  a  slow,  deep  anger  was 
kindled  in  her  mind.  "  What  right  have  they  to  do  such  a 
thing?"  she  asked  herself  over  and  over  again.  Even  more 
than  at  the  barbarism  of  the  act  she  revolted  at  its  injustice. 
"  I  never  wronged  either  of  them,"  she  repeated,  "  and  here 
they  are  recklessly  bent  on  what  would  embitter  my  life. 
The  idea  of  being  fought  about !  Two  animals  couldn't  do 
worse." 

And  so  the  long  night  was  passed  in  bitter,  painful 
thoughts.  With  the  dawning  the  bird's  innocent  songs 
jarred  on  her  over-wrought  senses.  She  looked  out  of  the 
window  by  which  she  had  kept  her  vigil,  inhaled  the  dewy 
freshness  of  the  air  and  then  bathed  her  tired,  hot  eyes. 

"  To  think  that  men  would  disturb  the  peace  of  such  a 
morning  by  their  miserable,  causeless  hate !  Where  is 
Madison's  love  for  his  mother?  Why  don't  they  remember 
the  distress  and  horror  that  would  follow  their  mad  act? 
Zany,  wake  up.     It  is  time  we  were  on  the  watch." 

Even  as  she  spoke  there  was  a  heavy  step  in  the  outer 
hall,  that  of  the  sergeant  coming  to  wake  Lieutenant  Whately. 
Miss  Lou  glanced  from  her  window  in  time  to  see  Captain 
Maynard  striding  from  his  tent  towards  the  grove  which 
would  screen  the  combatants  from  observation.     Waiting  a 


306  "MISS  L0(7." 

few  moments  for  the  sergeant  to  retire  she  and  Zany  slipped 
down  and  out  before  Whately  left  his  room.  They  reached 
the  grove  from  the  back  entrance  of  the  house,  and  conceal- 
ing themselves  in  some  copse-wood,  watched  for  Whately's 
coming.  He  soon  appeared,  walking  rapidly  as  if  fearing 
to  be  behind  time.  He  was  in  fact  some  moments  late, 
having  stopped  to  advise  Perkins  of  the  affair  on  hand. 
He  passed  so  neai  his  cousin's  leafy  screen  that  she  could 
look  into  his  flushed,  troubled  face  and  could  hear  him 
mutter,  "  Curse  it  all  !     I'm  forever  getting  into  scrapes." 

For  the  first  time  since  Zany's  news,  pity  overcame  her 
anger  and  she  murmured,  "  Poor  spoiled  boy !  It's  well 
for  you  and  your  mother  that  I'm  here." 

Swiftly  she  followed  him  through  the  still  dusky  grove, 
keeping  the  boles  of  trees  between  herself  and  his  form. 
Beyond  the  grove  was  an  open  grassy  field,  facing  the  east, 
where  the  light  was  distinct.  Clearly  outlined  against  the 
rose-tinted  horizon  was  the  figure  of  Maynard  standing  with 
his  arms  folded  and  his  back  towards  them,  apparently  lost 
in  deep  thought. 

"Well  sir,"  said  Whately  sternly,  " I  suppose  I  should  ask 
your  pardon  for  keeping  you  waiting." 

"I  reckon  there's  plenty  of  time  for  the  purpose  of 
our  meeting,"  replied  Maynard  coolly.  "Since  you  are 
the  challenged  party  and  we  have  no  seconds,  arrange  the 
matter  to  suit  yourself." 

Whately  was  about  to  pace  off  the  ground  when  a  girl's 
voice  rang  out  clearly,  "  Stop  that !  " 

"  Miss  Baron  !  "  cried  Maynard,  taking  off  his  hat. 

Whately  threw  back  his  head  proudly.  This  was  better 
than  he  had  dreamed,  for  now  his  cousin  would  be  com- 
pelled to  recognize  his  high  and  haughty  spirit.  A  glance 
at  the  girl's  pale,  stern  face  as  she  stepped  out  between  them 
was  not  altogether  reassuring.    She  glanced  coldly  from  one 


THE  DUELISTS    VANQUISHED.  307 

to  the  other  for  a  moment  and  then  said  firmly,  "  I  have 
something  to  say  about  this  affair." 

"  Pardon  me,  Miss  Baron,"  Maynard  began,  bowing,  "  if 
I  am  compelled  to  disabuse  your  mind.  This  is  a  little 
matter  between  Lieutenant  Whately  and  myself.  I  am 
surprised  beyond  measure  that  he  has  invited  you  to  be 
present." 

"That's  a  lie,"  thundered  Whately,  drawing  his  weapon 
from  his  belt. 

"  Stop,  both  of  you,"  cried  the  girl.  "  Captain  Maynard, 
my  cousin  has  not  invited  me.  Your  purpose  of  meeting 
was  discovered  by  accident  and  revealed  to  me  late  last 
night  —  too  late  for  me  to  do  any  thing  then.  All  the  long 
night  I  have  sat  at  my  window  that  I  might  be  in  time  to 
keep  you  from  disgracing  yourselves  and  me." 

"Great  heavens!  Miss  Baron,  you  do  me  injustice," 
cried  Maynard.  "  I  have  been  insulted.  I  never  thought 
of  wronging  you.     Perish  such  a  thought !  " 

"  Evidently  neither  of  you  has  thought  of  me,  nor  cared 
for  me  or  others.  Yourselves,  your  own  vindictive  feelings 
have  engrossed  you  wholly,  yet  I  know  I'm  the  innocent 
cause  of  this  brutal  encounter,  and  the  world  would  know 
me  to  be  the  cause  whether  it  believed  me  innocent  or  not. 
I  tell  you  plainly  that  if  you  fight  I  shall  brand  you  both 
unworthy  the  name  of  gentlemen  and  I  shall  proclaim  to  all 
your  outrage  to  me." 

"Outrage  to  you,  Miss  Baron?"  said  Maynard,  with  a 
bitter,  incredulous  laugh. 

"Yes,"  she  replied,  turning  upon  him  fiercely.  "What 
can  you  think  of  me  when  you  fight  about  me  like  a  wild 
beast?" 

"  I  am  prepared  to  fight  Lieutenant  Whately  on  entirely 
different  grounds,"  he  replied,  his  face  flushing  hotly  at  her 
words. 


308  "MISS  LOU." 

"  You  cannot  do  it,  sir.  I  would  know,  and  so  would  all, 
that  I  was  the  cause.  What  right,  sir,  have  you  to  embitter 
my  life,  to  fill  my  days  and  nights  with  horror?  I  never 
wronged  you." 

"  But,  Miss  Baron,  in  all  ages  such  encounters  have  been 
common  enough  when  a  man  received  ample  provocation, 
as  I  have." 

"  So  much  the  worse  for  the  ages  then.  I  say  that  you 
both  were  about  to  commit  a  selfish,  cowardly,  unmanly  act 
that  would  have  been  an  outrage  in  its  cruelty  to  an  inno- 
cent girl,  to  whom  you  had  been  making  false  professions 
of  regard." 

"  Now  by  the  God  who  made  me,  that's  not  true,  Miss 
Baron." 

"  Cousin  Lou,  you  are  beside  yourself,"  cried  Whately. 

"Miss  Baron,"  said  Maynard,  coming  to  her  side  and 
speaking  with  great  earnestness,  "  I  can  endure  any  charge 
better  than  your  last.  No  man  ever  declared  truer  love 
than  I  to  you." 

"  I  can  tell  you  of  a  man  who  has  declared  truer  love," 
she  replied,  looking  him  steadily  in  the  eyes. 

"Who  in  God's  name?"  he  asked  savagely. 

"Any  man  who  thought  more  of  the  girl  than  of  himself," 
she  answered  with  passionate  pathos  in  her  tones,  "  any  man 
who  considered  her  before  his  own  reckless,  ungovernable 
feelings,  who  would  save  her  heart  from  sorrow  rather  than 
gratify  his  anger.  Any  man  who  asks,  What  is  best  for  the 
woman  I  love?  instead  of  What's  my  humor?  what  will 
please  me  ?  Suppose  you  both  had  carried  out  your  savage 
impulses,  and  lay  on  this  ground,  wounded  or  dead,  what 
would  be  said  at  the  house  there  about  me?  What  would 
be  your  mother's  fate,  Madison,  that  you  might  gratify  a 
causeless  spite?  Have  you  no  home,  Captain  Maynard,  no 
kindred  who  would  always  curse  my  name?     If  you  had 


THE  DUELrSTS    VANQUISHED.  309 

died  like  the  brave  men  who  lie  in  yonder  graves  your 
friends  would  ever  speak  your  name  proudly ;  but  even  I, 
all  inexperienced,  know  the  world  well  enough  to  be  only 
too  sure,  they  would  hang  their  heads  and  say  you  flung 
away  your  life  for  a  heartless  girl  who  was  amusing  herself 
at  your  expense.  Fight  if  you  will,  but  if  you  do,  I  pledge 
you  my  word  that  I  will  never  willingly  look  upon  either 
of  you  again,  living  or  dead  !  " 

She  was  about  to  turn  away  when  Maynard  rushed  before 
her  exclaiming,  "Miss  Baron,  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  ask 
your  forgiveness.  I  never  saw  this  act  in  the  light  you 
place  it." 

"There  cousin,"  added  Whately  with  a  sort  of  shame- 
faced laugh,  "  I'm  hanged  if  you  aren't  in  the  right  and  I 
in  the  wrong  again.  As  you  say,  the  bullet  that  killed  me 
might  do  worse  by  mother,  and  I  should  have  thought  of 
that.  As  for  you,  we  didn't  think  you'd  look  at  it  this  way. 
There's  plenty  of  girls  who'd  think  it  a  big  feather  in  their 
caps  to  have  men  fight  about  'em." 

"  I  can't  believe  it." 

"  It's  true,  nevertheless,"  said  Maynard  earnestly.  "  What 
can  I  do  to  right  myself  in  your  eyes?  " 

"  If  you  wish  to  be  men  whose  friendship  I  can  value, 
shake  hands  and  use  your  weapons  for  your  country.  If 
you  truly  care  for  my  good  opinion,  forget  yourselves  long 
enough  to  find  out  what  does  please  me  and  not  rush  head- 
long into  action  I  detest.  Consider  the  rights,  feelings  and 
happiness  of  others." 

"Well  Whately,  what  do  you  say?"  asked  Maynard  with 
a  grim  laugh.  "  I  am  ready  to  obey  Miss  Baron  as  I  would 
my  superior  officer,"  and  he  held  out  his  hand. 

Whately  took  it  with  an  answering  laugh,  saying,  "  There's 
nothing  else  left  us  to  do.  After  her  words,  we  could  no 
more  fight  each  other  than  shoot  her." 


3IO  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Thank  you.  I  —  I  —  Zany,"  she  faltered,  turning  deathly 
white.  She  would  have  fallen  had  not  her  cousin  sprung  to 
her  aid,  supporting  her  to  a  seat  on  a  moss-grown  log  lying 
near. 

For  a  few  moments  the  long  strain  and  reaction  proved 
too  much  for  her,  and  she  sat,  pale  and  panting,  her  head 
resting  against  Zany,  who  had  rushed  from  her  covert.  The 
young  men  were  overwhelmed  with  compunction  and  alarm, 
but  she  retained  and  silenced  them  by  a  gesture.  "  I'll  be 
—  better  —  in  a  moment,"  she  gasped. 

It  proved  but  a  partial  giving  way  of  her  nervous  force. 
In  a  few  moments  she  added,  "  Please  go  back  to  the  house 
by  different  ways.  No  one  need  know  any  thing  about  this. 
No,  don't  call  any  one.€  I'll  get  better  faster  if  left  with 
Zany.  I  beg  you  do  as  I  ask  and  then  my  mind  will  be  at 
rest." 

"  There,  Miss  Baron,"  said  the  remorseful  Maynard,  "  I 
pledge  you  my  word  I'll  never  fight  a  duel.  I  can  prove 
my  courage  sufficiently  against  the  enemy." 

She  smiled,  held  out  her  hand,  which  he  carried  to  his 
lips  and  reluctantly  departed. 

"  See  here,  Cousin  Lou,"  said  Whately  impulsively,  "  I'm 
going  to  give  you  an  honest,  cousinly  kiss.  I'm  not  so 
feather-headed  as  not  to  know  you've  got  us  both  out  of  a 
devil  of  a  scrape." 

He  suited  the  action  to  his  words,  and  strode  off  in  time 
to  intercept  Perkins,  who  had  the  scent  of  a  vulture  for  a 
battle.  "  We  have  arranged  the  affair  for  the  present,"  said 
the  young  officer  curtly,  "  and  won't  need  any  graves  to-day. 
Keep  mum  about  this." 

"  I'll  keep  my  mouth  close  enough  till  I  kin  begin  ter  bite 
on  my  own  account,"  muttered  the  overseer  as  he  sullenly 
followed. 


SAD    TIDIXGS.  311 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


SAD   TIDINGS. 


THAT  morning  Miss  Lou  stood  on  the  veranda  and 
bade  farewell,  one  after  another,  to  those  with  whom 
she  had  been  associated  so  strangely  and  unexpectedly. 
There  was  an  unwonted  huskiness  in  Dr.  Borden's  voice, 
and  Ackley,  usually  so  grim  and  prompt,  held  the  girl's 
hand  lingeringly  as  he  tried  to  made  a  joke  about  her 
defying  him  and  the  whole  Confederacy.  It  was  a  dismal 
failure.     Regarding  him  with  her  weary  eyes,  she  said,  — 

"  Doctor,  you  had  wit  enough  and  heart  enough  to  under- 
stand and  subdue  me.     Haven't  I  minded  you  since?" 

"  I'm  a  little  afraid  you'd  still  get  the  upper  hand  if  you 
often  looked  at  me  as  you  do  now.  I  shall  find  out,  how- 
ever, if  you  will  obey  one  more  order.  Miss  Baron,  you 
must  rest.  Your  pulse  indicates  unusual  exhaustion.  You 
have  tried  to  do  too  much,  and  I  expect  those  young  men 
have  been  making  such  fierce  and  counter  claims  that  you 
are  all  worn  out.  Ah,  if  I  had  been  only  twenty  years 
younger  I  would  have  won  you  by  a  regular  course  of 
scientific  love-making." 

"  I  don't  know  any  thing  about  science  and  wouldn't 
understand  you.  So  it  is  better  as  it  is,  for  I  do  understand 
what  a  good,  kind  friend  you've  been.  You  knew  all  the 
while  that  I  was  little  more  than  an  ignorant  child,  yet  your 
courtesy  was  so  fine  that  you  treated  me  like  a  woman.     I 


312  "MISS  LOU." 

hope  we  shall  meet  again  in  brighter  days.  Yes,  I  will  obey 
you,  for  I  feel  the  need  of  rest." 

"  I  shall  come  again  and  take  my  chances,"  said  Maynard 
in  parting. 

Mercurial  Whately,  forgetting  his  various  troubles  and 
experiences  in  the  excitement  of  change  and  return  to 
active  duty,  bade  her  a  rather  boisterous  and  good-hearted 
farewell.  His  mind  was  completely  relieved  as  to  Maynard 
and  he  did  not  dream  of  Scoville  as  a  serious  rival. 

"  It's  only  a  question  of  time,"  he  thought,  "  and  at 
present  mother  can  do  the  courting  better  than  I  can. 
When  I  return  Lou  will  be  so  desperately  bored  by  her 
stupid  life  here  as  to  be  ready  for  any  change." 

The  remaining  patients  looked  at  her  and  Mrs.  Whately 
very  wistfully  and  gratefully,  speaking  reluctant  adieus. 
When  all  were  gone  the  girl,  feeling  that  she  had  reached 
the  limit  of  endurance,  went  to  her  room  and  slept  till 
evening.  It  was  the  sleep  of  exhaustion,  so  heavy  that  she 
came  down  to  a  late  supper  weak  and  languid.  But  youth 
is  elastic,  the  future  full  of  infinite  possibilities.  Scoville's 
words  haunted  her  like  sweet  refrains  of  music.  No  matter 
how  weary,  perplexed  and  sad  she  was,  the  certainty  of 
her  place  in  his  thoughts  and  heart  sustained  her  and  was 
like  a  long  line  of  light  in  the  west,  indicating  a  clearing 
storm.  "He  will  come  again,"  she  often  whispered  to 
herself;  "  he  said  he  would  if  he  had  to  come  on  crutches. 
Oh,  he  does  love  me.  He  gave  me  his  love  that  night 
direct,  warm  from  his  heart,  because  he  couldn't  help 
himself.  He  thought  he  loved  me  before  —  when,  by  the 
run,  he  told  me  of  it  so  quietly,  so  free  from  all  exaction 
and  demands ;  but  I  didn't  feel  it.  It  merely  seemed  like 
bright  sunshine  of  kindness  and  good-will,  very  sweet  and 
satisfying  then.  But  when  we  were  parting,  when  his  tones 
trembled  so,  when  overcome,  he  lost  restraint  and  snatched 


SAD    TIDINGS.  313 

me  to  his  heart,  —  then  I  learned  that  /,  too  had  a 
heart." 

If  she  had  been  given  time  this  new  heart-life,  with 
thoughts  and  hopes  springing  from  it  like  flowers,  would 
have  restored  her  elasticity.  Scoville's  manly  visage,  his 
eyes,  so  often  mirthful,  always  kind,  would  have  become 
so  real  to  her  fancy  that  the  pallid,  drawn  features  of  the 
suffering,  the  dying  and  the  dead,  would  have  faded  from 
her  memory.  So  would  have  faded  also  the  various  aspects 
of  passion  from  which  she  had  shrunk,  frightened  by  its  hot 
breath.  Her  days  would  have  been  filled  with  the  beautiful, 
innocent  dreams  of  a  young  girl's  first  love  so  inspired  as 
to  cast  out  fear. 

But  the  ruthless  Moloch  of  war  could  not  permit  any 
thing  so  ideal,  so  heavenly,  as  this. 

Mrs.  Waldo  came  down  from  the  apartment  to  which  her 
son  had  been  removed  and  joined  the  girl  on  the  veranda. 
"  Ah  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  have  taken  solid  comfort  all  day 
in  the  thought  that  you  were  sleeping,  and  now  you  are 
still  resting.  I  want  to  see  the  color  in  your  cheeks  again, 
and  the  tired  look  all  gone  from  your  eyes  before  we  go." 

"  You  don't  know  how  I  dread  to  have  you  go,"  replied 
Miss  Lou.  "  From  the  first  your  son  did  more  for  me 
than  I  could  do  for  him.  The  smile  with  which  he  always 
greeted  me  made  me  feel  that  nothing  could  happen  beyond 
remedy,  and  so  much  that  was  terrible  was  happening." 

"  Well,  my  child,  that's  the  faith  I  am  trying  to  cherish 
myself  and  teach  my  boy.  It  is  impossible  for  you  to  know 
what  a  black  gulf  opened  at  my  feet  when  my  noble  husband 
was  killed  early  in  the  war.  Such  things,  happily,  are  known 
only  by  experience  and  many  escape.  Then  our  cause 
demanded  my  only  son.  I  face  death  with  him  in  every 
battle,  every  danger.  He  takes  risks  without  a  thought  of 
fear  and  I  dare  not  let  him  know  the  agony  of  my  fear. 


314  "MISS  LOU." 

Yet  in  my  widowhood,  in  the  sore  pressure  of  care  and 
difficulty  in  managing  a  large  plantation  in  these  times,  I 
have  found  my  faith  in  God's  love  adequate  to  my  need. 
I  should  still  find  it  so  if  I  lost  my  boy.  I  could  not  escape 
the  suffering,  but  I  would  not  sorrow  as  without  hope." 

"How  much  I  would  give  for  the  certainty  of  such  a 
faith!"  said  Miss  Lou  sadly.  "Sometimes,  since  Captain 
Hanfield  died,  I  think  I  feel  it.  And  then  —  oh,  I  don't 
know.  Things  might  happen  which  I  couldn't  meet  in  your 
spirit.  If  I  had  been  compelled  to  marry  my  cousin  I  feel 
that  I  should  have  become  hard,  bitter  and  reckless." 

"  You  poor,  dear  little  girl !  Well,  you  were  not  compelled 
to  marry  him.  Don't  you  see?  We  are  saved  from  some 
things  and  given  strength  to  bear  what  does  happen.  Don't 
you  worry  about  yourself,  my  dear.  Just  look  up  and  trust. 
Happily,  the  sun  of  God's  love  shines  on  just  the  same, 
unaffected  by  the  passing  clouds  of  our  feelings  and  expe- 
riences. He  sees  the  end  and  knows  all  about  the  peaceful, 
happy  eternity  before  us.  You  dear,  worn-out  little  child  ! 
His  love  is  ever  about  you  like  my  arms  at  this  moment," 
and  the  old  lady  drew  the  girl  to  her  in  an  impulse  of 
motherly  tenderness. 

"  O  Mrs.  Waldo,  you  make  me  feel  what  it  is  to  have  no 
mother,"  sobbed  Miss  Lou. 

"  Well,  my  dear,  that's  your  heavy  cross.  Sooner  or  later, 
hi  some  form,  a  cross  burdens  every  human  soul,  too  often 
many  crosses.  All  I  ask  of  you  is  not  to  try  to  bear  them 
alone.  See  how  faith  changed  every  thing  for  Captain 
Hanfield  in  his  extremity.  He  is  now  in  the  better  home, 
waiting  for  his  dear  ones." 

"  I  can  never  forget  what  faith  has  done  for  you  and  your 
son,  Mrs.  Waldo.  Surgeon  Ackley  said  that  your  son's 
absolute  quiet  and  cheerfulness  of  mind  during  the  first 
critical  days  saved  his  life." 


SAD    TIDINGS.  315 

"Yes,  I  know  that,"  Mrs.  Waldo  replied  with  her  low, 
sweet  laugh.  "  Faith  is  often  more  useful  in  helping  us  to 
live  than  in  preparing  us  to  die.  It  saved  my  life,  too,  I'm 
sure,  after  my  husband  died.  I  had  no  right  to  die  then, 
for  Vincent  and,  far  more,  my  daughters,  still  needed  me." 

For  a  time  they  sat  on  the  piazza  steps  in  silence,  the  old 
lady  keeping  her  arm  caressingly  about  the  girl,  whose  head 
drooped  on  the  motherly  bosom  overflowing  with  sympathy. 
Only  the  semi-tropical  t  sounds  of  night  broke  the  stillness. 
The  darkness  was  relieved  by  occasional  flashes  along  the 
horizon  from  a  distant  thunder-shower.  Miss  Lou  thought, 
" Have  I  ever  known  a  peace  so  deep  and  sweet  as  this?  " 

There  was  a  hasty,  yet  stealthy  step  along  the  hall  to  the 
door,  yet  the  girl  had  no  presentiment  of  evil.  The  warm, 
brooding,  fragrant  darkness  of  the  night  was  not  more 
undisturbed  than  her  mind. 

"Miss  Lou,"  said  Zany  in  a  loud  whisper. 

What  a  shock  came  with  that  brief  utterance  !  A  flash 
of  lightning  direct  from  the  sky  could  not  have  produced 
such  sudden  dread  and  presentiment  of  trouble.  Truly,  a 
woman  listens  more  with  her  heart  than  her  ears,  and  even 
in  Zany's  whisper  there  was  detected  a  note  of  tragedy. 

After  an  instant  Miss  Lou  faltered,  "What  is  it,  Zany?" 

"  Ef  you  gwine  ter  yo'  room  soon  I  des  he'p  you  undress." 

How  well  the  girl  knew  that  the  faithful  slave  meant  other 
and  less  prosaic  help  !  She  rose  at  once,  kissed  Mrs.  Waldo 
good-night  and  excused  herself.  When  Zany  had  lighted 
the  candle  her  scared,  troubled  face  revealed  at  once  that 
she  had  tidings  of  dire  import. 

Miss  Lou  seized  the  girl  with  a  grip  which  hurt  her  arm, 
demanding,  "  Have  you  heard  any  thing  about  —  about 
Lieutenant  Scoville?" 

"  Now,  Miss  Lou,  you  gotter  be  brabe  en  not  look  at  me 
dat  away.  Kaze  ef  you  does,  w'at  I  gwine  ter  do?  I 
kyant  stan'  it  nohow." 


3l6  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Oh  !  oh  ! "  Miss  Lou  gasped,  "wait  a  moment,  not  yet 
—  wait.  I  must  get  breath.  I  know,  I  know  what's  coming. 
Chunk  is  back  and  —  and  —  O  God,  I  can't  bear  it,  I  cannot, 
I  cannot ! " 

"  Dar  now,  Miss  Lou,  des  lis'n.  P'raps  tain  ez  bad  ez 
you  tink.  P'raps  w'en  Chunk  'splain  all  you  see  tain 
ez  bad.  Hi !  Miss  Lou,  you  musn't  took  on  so,"  for  the 
girl  was  wringing  her  hands  and  rocking  back  and  forth  in 
agony.  "  Folks  s'picion  dat  Chunk  yere  en  dat  ud  be  de 
eend  ob  him,  sho.  He  ain'  seen  Marse  Scoville  daid  sho. 
He  on'y  see  'im  fall.  Chunk  wanter  see  you  en  he  mighty 
skeery  'bout  hit,  kaze  ef  Perkins  get  on  he  track  he  done 
fer.  He  ain'  see  he  granny  yit  en  he  darsn't  come  dar  twel 
hit  late.  He  larn  ter  toot  lak  a  squinch-owl  frum  Marse 
Scoville  en  he  tole  me  dat  when  he  come  agin  he  toot.  I 
nigh  on  run  my  legs  off  follerin'  up  tootin's  o'  nights,  fer 
dey  wuz  on'y  pesky  squinch-owls  arter  all.  Dis  eb'nin'  I  year 
a  toot  dat  flutter  my  heart  big  en  I  knowed  'twuzn't  no 
squinch-owl  dis  time,  sho,"  and  so  Zany  ran  on  in  her  canny 
shrewdness,  for  she  perceived  she  was  gaining  Miss  Lou's 
attention  and  giving  time  for  recovery  from  the  blow. 

Miss  Lou  had  a  despairing  conviction  that  Chunk  would 
not  have  returned  alone  unless  his  master  was  dead,  but  her 
mind  quickly  seized  upon  the  element  of  uncertainty  and 
she  was  eager  to  see  the  negro. 

"  We  mus'  wait,  we  sut'ny  mus',  twel  Chunk  kin  creep  ter 
he  granny's  cabin." 

"  I  can't  wait,  Zany.  It  wouldn't  be  best,  either  for  me 
or  Chunk.  It's  not  very  late  yet,  and  I  could  visit  Aun' 
Jinkey  without  exciting  remark  if  you  go  with  me.  It's  too 
dark  for  Chunk  to  be  seen  and  I'd  protect  him  with  my  life. 
I  must  get  better  ground  for  hope  or  my  heart  will  break. 
Pretend  I  wish  a  glass  of  water  and  see  if  we  can't  slip  out 
now." 


SAD    TIDINGS.  317 

This  Zany  did,  discovering  that  Mrs.  Baron  was  with  her 
husband  in  his  office  and  that  Mrs.  Waldo  had  returned  to 
her  son's  room. 

In  a  few  moments  Miss  Lou  was  sitting  by  Aun'  Jinkey 
and  tremblingly  telling  her  fears.  Meanwhile  Zany  scouted 
around  to  insure  immunity  from  observation. 

"  You  po',  po'  chile  ! "  groaned  Aun'  Jinkey.  "  I  wuz  a 
hopin'  dat  now  you  hab  a  time  ob  peace  en  quietness,  en 
you  des  gwine  ter  be  'spended  'twix  hebin  en  yearth." 

"  Oh,  I  fear  he's  dead,  my  heart  tells  me  he's  dead.  O 
mammy,  mammy,  how  can  God  be  so  cruel?  I  don't  know 
who  caused  this  war  or  who's  to  blame,  but  I  feel  now  as 
if  I  could  torture  them." 

"  I'se  feared  dat  ain'  de  right  speret,  honey." 

"  How  can  one  have  the  right  spirit  when  mocked  by 
such  a  hope  as  I've  had?  It  needn't  have  happened.  O 
Mrs.  Waldo,  I  could  tell  you  now  I'm  no  Christian  at  all. 
I  say  it  needn't  have  happened.  And  then  think  how 
Uncle  Lusthah  prayed  ! " 

"  Chunk  down  dar  by  de  run,  Miss  Lou,"  whispered  Zany. 
"  I  lis'n  wid  all  my  years  en  eyes." 

"  Miss  Lou,  I'se  yere  in  de  shadder  ob  dis  bush,"  Chunk 
called  softly. 

"  Tell  me  everything." 

"  Darsn't  twel  I  feels  mo'  safe,  Miss  Lou.  Kin  on'y  say 
now  Marse  Scoville  des  dote  on  you  en  he  ax  questions 
'bout  you  sence  you  lil  gyurl.  Hun'erds  ob  times  he  say, 
'  Chunk,  we  go  back  some  day,  sho  ! '  But  he  do  he  duty 
brabe.  I  go  wid  'im  ev'ywhar  en  onst,  des  on  de  aige  ob 
night,  he  wuz  ridin'  long  wid  'bout  twenty  ob  he  men  en 
dis  ting  happen.  We  didn't  tink  any  Rebs  roun'  en  I'd 
been  kep'  back  tryin'  ter  git  a  chicken  fer  raars'r's  supper. 
Ez  I  riz  a  hill,  ridin'  right  smart  I  see  our  folks  goin'  easy 
en  car'less  inter  a  woods.     I  seed  'em  all  ez  plain  ez  eber 


318  "MISS  LOU." 

see  anybody,  en  Marse  Scoville  ride  at  de  haid.  Sudden 
dere  was  flash,  flash,  bang,  bang,  all  troo  de  woods.  Marse 
Scoville  fell  right  off  he  hoss,  he  sut'ny  did.  Den  lots  ob 
Johnnies  run  in  de  road  fore  en  hind  our  mens.  I  see  dere 
wuz  no  chaince  fer  me  ter  do  any  ting  but  git  away  en  lil 
chaince  fer  dat,  fer  two  Rebs  on  horses  come  tarin'  arter 
me.  Ef  hit  hadn't  come  dark  sudden  en  my  hoss  wuzn't  a 
flyer  I'se  been  cotched  sho.  'Fo'  de  Lawd,  Miss  Lou,  dat 
all  I  know." 

"  He's  dead,"  said  the  girl  in  a  hoarse  whisper. 

"  I  orful  feared  he  is,  Miss  Lou,"  assented  the  matter-of- 
fact  Chunk.  "  De  Rebs  so  neah  w'en  dey  fiah,  en  Marse 
Scoville  sut'ny  did  go  off  he  hoss  sudden.  I  been  a  week 
gittin'  yere  en  I  neber  git  yere  ef  de  cullud  people  didn't 
he'p  me  long  nights." 

The  girl  stood  silent  and  motionless.  Suddenly  Zany 
grasped  her  hand  and  whispered,  "  I  yeared  steps.  Come 
ter  de  cabin.     Be  off,  Chunk." 

They  had  scarcely  reached  Aun'  Jinkey's  door  before  a 
shadow  approached  and  the  harsh  voice  of  Perkins  asked, 
"  What's  goin'  on  yere  ?  " 

"  My  young  mistis  des  seein'  her  mammy  'bout  her  clos," 
replied  the  quick-witted  Zany. 

"  I  thought  I  yeared  voices  down  by  the  run." 

"  Reck'n  you  bettah  go  see,"  said  Zany  in  rather  high  tones. 

"What  the  dev-—  what  makes  yer  speak  so  loud?  a 
warnin'  ?  " 

"  Tain'  my  place  ter  pass  wuds  wid  you,  Marse  Perkins. 
■  Dem  I  serbs  doan  fin'  fault." 

"  I  reckon  Mr.  Baron'll  do  mo'n  find  fault  'fore  long.  I 
better  say  right  yere  en  now  I've  got  my  orders  'bout  that 
nigger  Chunk.  Nobody  kin  save  'im  ef  caught.  You've 
been  followed  before  in  your  night-cruisin'  en  you're  lookin' 
fer  some  one.     Ef  there's  trouble,  Miss  Baron  kyant  say  I 


SAD    TIDINGS.  319 

didn't  give  warnin'.  Now  that  the  sogers  is  gone  I'm  held 
'sponsible  fer  what  goes  on,"  and  he  stalked  away. 

He  did  not  wish  to  come  into  an  open  collision  with 
Miss  Lou  again  if  he  could  help  it,  —  not  at  least  while  the 
Waldos  remained.  He  had  concluded  that  by  a  warning  he 
might  prevent  trouble,  his  self-interest  inclining  him  to  be 
conservative.  Confederate  scrip  had  so  lost  its  purchasing 
power  that  in  its  stead  he  had  recently  bargained  with  Mr. 
Baron  for  a  share  in  the  crops.  Thus  it  happened  that  the 
question  of  making  a  crop  was  uppermost  in  his  mind. 
Until  this  object  was  secured  he  feared  to  array  the  girl 
openly  against  him,  since  her  influence  might  be  essential  in 
controlling  the  negroes.  If  policy  could  keep  them  at  work, 
well  and  good ;  if  the  harshest  measures  seemed  best  to  him 
he  was  ready  to  employ  them. 

Not  only  was  he  puzzled,  but  Zany  also  and  Aun'  Jinkey 
were  sore  perplexed  at  Miss  Lou's  silence.  She  had  stood 
motionless  and  unheeding  through  the  colloquy  with  the 
overseer,  and  now  remained  equally  deaf  and  unresponsive 
to  the  homely  expressions  of  sympathy  and  encouragement 
of  the  two  women.  They  could  not  see  her  face,  but 
quickly  felt  the  dread  which  any  thing  abnormal  inspires  in 
the  simple-minded.  Prone  to  wild  abandon  in  the  expres- 
sion of  their  own  strong  emotions,  the  silent,  motionless 
figure  of  the  young  girl  caused  a  deeper  apprehension  than 
the  most  extravagant  evidences  of  grief. 

"  Aun'  Jinkey,"  whispered  Zany,  "  you  mus'  des  he'p  me 
git  her  to  her  room." 

She  went  with  them  without  word  or  sign.  Their  alarm 
was  deepened  when  they  saw  her  deathly  pale  and  almost 
rigid  features  by  the  light  of  her  candle. 

"  Miss  Lou,  honey,  speak  ter  yo'  ole  mammy.  You 
broke  my  heart  w'en  you  look  dat  away." 

"  I  tell  you  he's  dead,"  whispered  the  girl. 


320  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Dis  ter'ble,"  groaned  the  old  woman.  " '  Fo'  de  Lavvd  I 
dunno  w'at  er  do." 

Zany  felt  instinctively  that  the  girl  was  beyond  their 
simple  ministrations  and  she  was  desperately  afraid  that  if 
Mrs.  Baron  came  Chunk's  presence  would  be  revealed 
by  words  spoken  unconsciously.  She  and  Aun'  Jinkey 
promptly  agreed  that  Mrs.  Waldo  was  their  only  hope  and 
Zany  flew  to  summon  her. 

Fortunately  the  lady  had  not  retired  and  she  came  at 
once.  "Louise,  Miss  Baron,  what  is  the  matter?"  she 
asked  in  strong  solicitude. 

"  I  tell  you,  he's  dead,"  again  whispered  the  girl,  looking 
as  if  a  scene  of  horror  were  before  her  eyes.  "  The  Rebs 
were  so  near  when  they  fired,  and  he  fell  off  his  horse 
sudden.     Ch  —  " 

Quick  as  light  Zany's  hand  was  over  the  girl's  mouth. 
The  scared  face  and  trembling  form  of  the  young  negress 
did  not  escape  Mrs.  Waldo's  quick  eye. 

"Zany,  what  are  you  concealing?"  she  asked  sternly. 
"  What  does  all  this  mean?  " 

"  Dar  now,  misus,"  answered  Aun'  Jinkey  with  a  certain 
simple  dignity,  "  we  mus'  des  trus  you.  I'se  yeared  you  a 
lubin'  serbent  ob  de  Lawd.  Ef  you  is,  you  am'  gwine  ter 
bring  mis'ry  on  mis'ry.  We  mus'  brung  Miss  Lou  roun' 
sudden  'fo'  ole  miss  comes.  He'p  us  git  young  mistis 
sens'ble  en  I  tell  you  eberyting  I  kin.  Dere  ain'  not'n  bade 
'bout  dis  honey  lam'  ob  mine." 

They  undressed  the  girl  as  if  she  were  a  helpless  child 
and  put  her  to  bed,  and  then  Zany  went  down  stairs  to  keep 
Mrs.  Baron  out  of  the  way  if  possible,  at  the  same  time 
listening  intently  for  any  signs  of  trouble  to  Chunk. 

Miss  Lou's  over-taxed  mind  had  given  way,  or  rather  was 
enchained  by  a  spell  of  horror  to  the  scenes  presented  all 
too  vividly  in  Chunk's  bald  statement.     Her  nervous  force 


SAD    TIDINGS.  321 

had  been  too  enfeebled  and  exhausted  to  endure  the  shock 
of  an  impression  so  tremendous  in  its  tragic  reality  that  her 
faculties  had  no  power  to  go  beyond  it.  Chunk's  words 
had  brought  her  to  a  darkening  forest  and  her  dead  lover, 
and  there  she  staid. 

Seeing  how  unconscious  she  was  Aun'  Jinkey  whispered 
enough  in  explanation  to  enable  Mrs.  Waldo  to  compre- 
hend the  girl's  condition. 

"  We  must  make  her  sleep,"  said  the  lady  decisively,  and 
under  her  wise  ministrations  the  stricken  girl  soon  looked 
almost  as  if  she  were  dead.  Having  kindly  reassured  and 
dismissed  Aun'  Jinkey,  Mrs.  Waldo  watched  Miss  Lou  as 
she  would  have  kept  vigil  with  one  of  her  own  daughters. 


322  "MISS  LOU." 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

CONSPIRATORS. 

PERKINS  was  very  ill  at  ease  that  night,  from  a  haunting 
suspicion  that  Chunk  had  returned.  "  Pesky  nigger'll 
have  a  revolver,  too,  most  likely,  en  be  crazy  ter  use  it ! 
Haint  been  'mong  them  cussed  Yanks  fer  nothin'  !  "  There 
was  therefore  little  disposition  for  a  night  hunt  after  one 
who  knew  every  inch  of  the  region  besides  being  as  stealthy 
and  agile  as  a  cat.  The  blow  from  which  his  head  still 
ached  had  a  warning  significance.  Coarse,  ignorant  and 
superstitious,  he  was  an  easy  victim  to  the  tormenting  fears 
of  his  own  bad  conscience.  The  graves  by  the  run  and  the 
extemporized  cemetery  farther  away  had  even  greater  ter- 
rors for  him  than  for  Aun'  Jinkey.  Even  his  whiskey  jug 
could  not  inspire  sufficient  courage  to  drive  him  at  night 
far  from  his  own  door.  Though  both  hating  and  despising 
Whately,  yet  the  absence  of  the  young  officer  and  his  force 
was  now  deeply  regretted,  as  they  had  lent  a  sense  of  security 
and  maintained  the  old  order  of  existing  authority.  Now 
he  was  thrown  chiefly  on  his  own  responsibility,  for  Mr. 
Baron  was  broken  and  enfeebled  by  what  he  had  passed 
through.  Avarice  spurned  Perkins  to  carry  through  the 
crops  in  which  he  had  an  interest,  while  his  hope  of  revenge 
on  Chunk,  Scoville  and  Miss  Lou  also  tended  to  keep  him 
at  a  post  which  he  foresaw  would  be  one  of  difficulty  and 
danger.  He  had  no  doubt  that  the  Union  officer  and  his 
freedman  would  return  as  soon  as  they  could,  and  for  the 


GONSPIRA  TORS.  323 

chance  of  wreaking  his  vengeance  he  was  the  more  willing 
to  remain  in  what  he  feared  would  be  a  spook-infested 
region.  "Onst  squar  with  tljem,  en  crops  realized,"  he 
muttered,  "I  kin  feel  mo'  comft'ble  in  other  parts.  To- 
morrer,  ef  Chunk  en  that  scout's  in  these  diggin's  I'll  know 
hit." 

He  was  aware  that  the  few  dogs  left  on  the  plantation 
would  make  no  trouble  .for  one  they  knew  as  well  as  they 
did  Chunk,  but  he  could  rely  on  the  brute  which  he  kept  in 
his  own  quarters  —  a  blood-hound,  savage  to  every  one 
except  his  master. 

"  Grip  will  smell  out  the  cussed  nigger  in  the  mawnin'  ef 
he's  been  around,"  he  assured  himself  before  beginning  his 
nightly  debauch.  "What's  mo',  Miss  Baron  ain't  so  high 
en  mighty  now  she  knows  I'm  comin'  to  be  the  rale  boss  on 
the  place.  She  didn't  even  squeak  w'en  I  gin  my  warnin' 
ter  night." 

Although  Chunk  knew  his  danger  and  was  cautious,  he 
was  disposed  on  the  first  night  of  his  arrival  to  take  some 
serious  risks  in  order  to  carry  out  the  schemes  dwelt  upon 
during  the  long  days  of  skulking  home.  Naturally  fearless 
he  had  acquired  much  of  Scoville's  soldier-like  and  scouting 
spirit.  The  young  officer  had  associated  his  dwarfish  fol- 
lower with  the  service  rendered  by  Miss  Lou  and  was  cor- 
respondingly grateful.  Chunk  therefore  received  much 
consideration  and  good  counsel  by  which  he  had  profited. 
Especially  had  Scoville  scoffed  at  the  negro's  superstitions, 
telling  him  that  a  fool  afraid  of  spooks  was  neither  fit  to  be 
a  free  man  nor  a  soldier. 

Since  Chunk  had  no  imagination  and  believed  absolutely 
in  his  master  there  were  no  more  "  spooks  "  for  him,  but  he 
knew  well  the  dread  inspired  by  that  word  on  the  plantation 
and  it  was  his  purpose  to  avail  himself  of  these  deep-rooted 
fears.     He  heard  the  colloquy  between  Zany  and  the  over- 


324  "MISS  LOU." 

seer  very  distinctly,  but  so  far  from  running  away,  dogged 
the  latter  home.  Long  knife  and  revolver  were  handy  in 
his  belt  and  a  heavy  club  wgs  carried  also.  Since  no  sol- 
diers were  around,  Perkins  was  not  to  be  dreaded  in  the 
night,  when  once  his  resting-place  was  known.  Crouching  a 
long  time  in  the  shadow  of  some  cedars  Chunk  watched  the 
overseer's  window,  but  the  light  was  not  extinguished.  A 
sudden  suspicion  dawned  on  our  watcher,  causing  him  to 
chuckle  low  with  delight.  "  Hi !  he  des  feared  of  sleepin'  in 
de  dark,  en  dat  can'le  bu'n  all  night !  "  Gliding  a  few  steps 
nearer  brought  to  the  quick  ear  a  resounding  snore,  accom- 
panied with  a  warning  growl  from  the  bloodhound.  "  I  des 
fix  'em  bof  fo'  I  froo,"  and  the  brawny  hand  clutched  with 
greater  force  the  heavy  club  it  carried. 

"Nex',  some  dem  fellers  mus'  be  tole  ter  he'p,"  and 
Chunk  crept  away  to  the  quarters.  It  was  an  easy  task  to 
waken  and  enlist  Jute,  well  known  to  be  one  of  the  most 
disaffected  and  fearless  among  the  hands.  The  two  started 
off  to  a  grove  which  none  could  approach  without  being 
seen,  and  had  a  long  whispered  consultation.  As  a  result, 
Jute  returned  to  the  quarters  and  brought  back  three  others 
whom  he  knew  would  enter  into  the  schemes  on  foot.  By 
midnight  Chunk  had  six  of  the  braver  and  more  reckless 
spirits  among  the  slaves  bound  to  him  by  such  uncouth 
oaths  as  he  believed  would  hold  them  most  strongly.  Then 
they  returned  to  their  cabins  while  the  chief  conspirator 
(after  again  reconnoitering  the  overseer's  cottage)  sought 
the  vicinity  of  his  granny's  home. 

With  mistaken  kindness  and  much  shrewdness  Chunk 
had  resolved  upon  a  course  that  would  fill  the  old  woman's 
life  with  terror.  He  adopted  the  policy  of  not  letting  her 
know  any  thing  of  his  plans,  so  that  she  could  honestly  say 
"  I  dunno "  and  prove  the  fact  by  her  manner.  He  in- 
stinctively felt  that  it  would  have  a  very  bad  look  if  super- 


CONSPIRA  TORS.  325 

stitious  Aim'  Jinkey  remained  composed  and  quiet  through 
the  scenes  he  purposed  to  bring  about.  Her  sincere  and 
very  apparent  fears  were  to  be  his  allies.  It  was  part  of  his 
scheme  also  that  Zany  should  be  very  badly  frightened  and 
made  eager  to  run  away  with  him  as  soon  as  he  and  the 
others  were  ready  for  departure. 

By  a  preconcerted  signal  he  summoned  Aun'  Jinkey  who 
was  much  affected  by  the  thought  that  she  was  bidding  her 
grandson  a  good-by  which  might  be  final,  but  oppressed 
with  fear,  she  was  at  the  same  time  eager  he  should  go. 
Putting  into  his  hands  a  great  pone  of  corn  bread  she 
urged,  "  Des  light  out,  Chunk,  light  out  sud'n.  'Twix  de 
baid  news  en  Miss  Lou  en  w'at  Perkins  do  ef  he  cotch  you, 
I  des  dat  trembly,  I  kyant  stan'." 

"  Perkins  asleep,  granny.  Fse  off  now  fer  good,  but  I 
comin'  back  fer  you  some  day." 

He  disappeared  and  too  perturbed  to  think  of  sleep  the 
old  woman  tottered  back  to  her  chimney  corner.  A  few 
moments  later  she  shuddered  at  the  hooting  of  a  screech- 
owl,  even  though  she  surmised  Chunk  to  be  the  bird.  Not 
so  Zany  who  answered  the  signal  promptly.  In  a  tentative 
way  Chunk  sought  to  find  if  she  was  then  ready  to  run 
away,  but  Zany  declared  she  couldn't  leave  Miss  Lou 
"  lookin'  ez  if  she  wuz  daid."  Thinking  it  might  be  long 
indeed  before  she  saw  her  suitor  again,  she  vouchsafed  him 
a  very  affectionate  farewell  which  Chunk  remorselessly  pro- 
longed, having  learned  in  his  brief  campaigning  not  to  leave 
any  of  the  goods  the  gods  send  to  the  uncertainties  of  the 
future.  When  at  last  he  tore  himself  away,  he  muttered, 
"  Speck  she  need  a  heap  ob  scarin'  en  she  git  all  she  wants. 
Ef  dat  ar  gyurl  doan  light  out  wid  me  nex'  time  I  ax  her, 
den  I  eats  a  mule."  And  then  Chunk  apparently  vanished 
from  the  scene. 

The  next  morning  Miss  Lou  awoke  feeble,  dazed  and  ill. 


326  "MZSS  LOU.n 

In  a  little  while  her  mind  rallied  sufficiently  to  recall  what 
had  happened,  but  her  symptoms  of  nervous  prostration  and 
lassitude  were  alarming.  Mrs.  Whately  was  sent  for,  and 
poor  Mr.  Baron  learned,  as  by  another  surgical  operation, 
what  had  been  his  share  in  imposing  on  his  niece  too 
severe  a  strain.  Mrs.  Waldo  whispered  to  Miss  Lou,  "  Your 
mammy  has  told  me  enough  to  account  for  the  shock  you 
received  and  your  illness.     Your  secret  is  safe  with  me." 

Meantime  the  good  lady  thought,  "  It  will  all  turn  out 
for  the  best  for  the  poor  child.  Such  an  attachment  could 
only  end  unhappily  and  she  will  get  over  it  all  the  sooner 
if  she  believes  the  Yankee  officer  dead.  How  deeply  her 
starved  nature  must  have  craved  sympathy  and  affection  to 
have  led  to  this  in  such  a  brief  time  and  opportunity  !  " 

As  may  be  supposed,  Aun'  Jinkey  had  been  chary  of  details 
and  had  said  nothing  of  Scoville's  avowal.  The  mistress 
of  the  plantation  looked  upon  her  niece's  illness  as  a  sort  of 
well  earned  "judgment  for  her  perversity,"  but  all  the  same, 
she  took  care  that  the  strongest  beef  tea  was  made  and 
administered  regularly.  Mrs.  Whately  arrived  and  became 
chief  watcher.  The  stricken  girl's  physical  weakness  seemed 
equalled  only  by  a  dreary  mental  apathy.  There  was  scarcely 
sufficient  vital  force  left  even  for  suffering,  a  fact  recognized 
by  the  aunt  in  loving  and  remorseful  solicitude. 

By  the  aid  of  his  bloodhound  Perkins  discovered  that 
some  one  whom  he  believed  to  be  Chunk  had  been  about, 
and  he  had  secret  misgivings  as  he  thought  of  the  negro's 
close  proximity.  He  had  already  learned  what  a  blow 
Chunk  could  deal  and  his  readiness  to  strike.  Taking  the 
dog  and  his  gun  he  had  cautiously  followed  the  run  into 
which  the  tracks  led  until  satisfied  that  the  man  he  was 
following  had  taken  horse  and  was  beyond  pursuit.  On  his 
return  he  learned  of  Miss  Lou's  illness  and  so  ventured  to 
threaten  Aun'  Jinkey. 


CONSPIRA  TORS.  327 

"Yer  do  know  'bout  that  cussed  grandson  o'  yourn. 
Kyant  fool  Grip,  en  he's  smelled  out  all  the  nigger's  tracks. 
Now  ef  yer  don't  tell  the  truth  I'll  raise  the  kentry  'roun'  en 
we'll  hunt  'im  to  the  eends  of  the  yearth." 

"  Well  den,  Marse  Perkins,"  admitted  the  terror  stricken 
woman,  "  I  des  tell  you  de  truf.  Dat  gran'boy  ob  min'  des 
come  ter  say  good-by.  Marse  Scoville  daid  en  Chunk 
mos'  up  Norf  by  dis  time,  he  went  away  so  sud'n." 

"That  Yankee  cuss  dead?"  cried  Perkins  in  undisguised 
exultation. 

"  Marse  Scoville  daid,  shot  of  n  he  hoss  long  way  f  um 
yere,"  replied  Aun'  Jinkey  sorrowfully.  "  He  kyant  harm 
you  ner  you  'im  no  mo',  ner  Chunk  neider." 

"  Why  the  devil  didn't  you  let  us  know  Chunk  was  here 
las'  night?" 

"  He  my  gran'son,"  was  the  simple  reply. 

"  Well  he  isn't  Zany's  grandson  !  Now  I  know  w'at  she 
was  snoopin'  round  nights  fer,  en  Mrs.  Baron'll  know,  too, 
'fore  I'm  five  minutes  older." 

Aun'  Jinkey  threw  up  her  hands  and  sunk  back  into  her 
chair  more  dead  than  alive.  She,  too,  had  been  taxed 
beyond  endurance  and  all  her  power  to  act  had  ceased  with 
her  final  effort  to  show  that  pursuit  of  Chunk  would  be 
useless. 

Perkins  speedily  obtained  an  audience  with  Mrs.  Baron, 
who  became  deeply  incensed  and  especially  against  Zany. 
The  inexorable  old  lady,  however,  never  acted  from  passion. 
She  nodded  coldly  to  the  overseer  saying,  "  I  will  inform 
Mr.  Baron  and  he  will  give  you  your  orders  in  regard  to  the 
offenders." 

Zany  was  too  alert  not  to  observe  the  interview  and  the 
omens  of  trouble  in  the  compressed  lips  of  "ole  miss  "  and 
the  steel-like  gleam  of  her  eyes.  The  moment  Mrs.  Baron 
was  closeted  with  her  husband  the  girl  sped  to  the  cabin. 


328  "MISS  LOU." 

"  Did  you  tell  Perkins  Chunk  been  yere  ? "  she  demanded 
fiercely. 

"'Fo'  de  Lawd  I  des  gwine  all  ter  pieces,"  gasped  Aun' 
Jinkey. 

"  Hope  ter  grashus  yer  does,  en  de  pieces  neber  come 
tergedder  agin,"  said  Zany  in  contemptuous  anger  and  deep 
alarm. 

Under  the  spur  of  tremendous  excitement  she  hastened 
back,  thinking  as  she  ran,  "  Miss  Lou  too  sick  ter  do  any 
ting.  I  des  got  ter  'peal  ter  Miss  Whately,  er  ole  miss  hab 
me  whipped  haf  ter  daith."  When  in  response  to  a  timid 
knock  Mrs.  Whately  peered  out  of  her  niece's  room  she 
found  a  trembling  suppliant  with  streaming  eyes.  Noise- 
lessly shutting  the  door  the  matron  said  warningly  : 

"  Don't  you  know  Miss  Lou's  life  depends  on  quiet  ?  " 

"  How  she  gwine  ter  hab  quiet  w'en  ole  miss  gwine  ter 
hab  Marse  Perkins  whip  me'n  Aun'  Jinkey  ter  daith  ?  " 

" Nonsense  !     Why  should  either  of  you  be  punished?" 

"  Well  missus,  I  'fess  ter  you,"  sobbed  Zany,  "  kaze  you 
got  more  feelin'  fer  us.  Chunk  come  las'  night  ter  say 
good-by  ter  he  granny'n  me,  en  den  he  put  out  fer  good, 
en  ain'  comin'  back  no  mo'.  Perkins  en  he  dog  foun'  hit 
out  dis  mawnin',  en  Aun'  Jinkey  tole  'im,  too,  I  reck'n,  she 
all  broke  up.  Perkins  been  talkin'  ter  ole  miss  en  she  look 
lak  she  al'ays  does  w'en  ders  no  let  up.  Hit  ud  des  kill 
Miss  Lou  if  she  knew  me'n  Aun'  Jinkey  wuz  bein'  whipped." 

"  Zany,"  said  Mrs.  Whately  in  rising  anger,  "  you  both 
had  full  warning.  You  knew  what  Chunk  had  done.  He 
stole  my  son's  horse  and  one  from  his  master  also,  besides 
doing  other  things  that  could  not  be  forgiven." 

"  Please  reckermember,  missus,  dat  Chunk  en  me  is 
mighty  sweet  on  each  oder  en  he  Aun'  Jinkey  gran'boy.  Tain' 
dat  we  'prove  of  his  goin's  on,  but  how  cud  we  tell  on  'im  en 
see  'im  daid,  w'en  he  des  come  ter  say  good-by.     Oh,  ef 


CONSPIRA  TORS.  329 

Miss   Lou  on'y  well  she   neber  let   dat   ole   Perkins  tech 
us." 

"  I  will  see  your  master  before  anything  is  done,"  said 
Mrs.  Whately  with  troubled  face.  "  Go  to  your  work  now. 
I  will  get  Mrs.  Waldo  to  watch  in  my  place  after  a 
while." 

Mr.  Baron  was  depressed  physically  and  mentally  by  the 
trying  events  of  the  past  few  weeks,  but  the  fact  that  Chunk 
had  ventured  on  the  place  again  and  had  been  permitted  to 
escape  angered  him  deeply.  He  also  accepted  the  view  of 
his  wife  and  overseer  that  all  discipline  among  the  slaves 
would  soon  be  at  an  end  if  so  serious  an  offence  were  over- 
looked. It  would  be  a  confession  of  weakness  and  fear  they 
believed  which  would  have  a  most  demoralizing  effect  in  the 
quarters.  Chunk  represented  the  worst  offences  of  which 
the  slaves  could  be  guilty ;  the  most  solemn  warnings  had 
been  given  against  aiding  and  abetting  him  in  any  way.  To 
do  nothing  now  would  be  a  virtual  permission  of  lawlessness. 
There  was  no  thought  of  mercy  for  Zany,  but  Aun'  Jinkey's 
age,  feebleness,  together  with  her  relations  to  Chunk  and 
Miss  Lou  complicated  matters. 

Husband  and  wife  were  still  consulting  when  Mrs.  Whately 
joined  them.  Mrs.  Baron  did  not  welcome  her  guest,  feeling 
that  this  was  purely  a  personal  affair,  and  was  in  no  mood  to 
brook  interference. 

"  I  can't  be  absent  long,"  began  Mrs.  Whately,  "  Zany 
has  told  me  everything  and  "  — 

"  I  think,  sister,  that  Mr.  Baron  and  I  can  manage  this 
matter,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Baron  coolly. 

"  No  doubt  you  can,"  Mrs.  Whately  replied  with  dignity. 
"I   did  not  come  down   to   interfere  with   your  domestic 
affairs.    There  is  one  point  on  which  I  have  a  right  to  sp 
and  must  speak.     You  can't  punish  Aun'  Jinkey  and  Zany 
now  if  knowledge  of  such  punishment  can  in  any  way  reach 


330  "MISS  LOU." 

our  niece.  No  matter  how  much  they  may  deserve  it,  I 
say  you  cannot  do  it.  I  promised  Zany  nothing,  held  out 
no  hope  to  her  of  escape,  but  to  you  I  will  speak  plainly. 
If  you  should  excite  and  disturb  Louise  now,  you  might 
easily  cause  her  death.  If  you  feel  that  you  cannot  overlook 
the  offence  (and  I  know  how  serious*a  one  it  is)  wait  till  I 
can  remove  Louise  to  my  own  house.  You  will  find  that 
Dr.  Pelton  when  he  arrives  will  confirm  my  words." 

Mr.  Baron  weakened.  He  had  not  the  relentless  will  of 
his  wife  who  interposed  with  cutting  emphasis,  "There  is 
no  need  of  Louise's  knowing  anything  about  it  till  she  is 
much  better,  and  it  would  be  well  for  her  to  learn  then, 
as  well  as  the  slaves,  that  there  is  still  a  master  and 
mistress." 

"  It  may  be  long  before  Louise  is  much  better,"  Mrs. 
Whately  replied  gravely.  "She  has  been  subjected  to  a 
strain  for  which  my  conscience  reproaches  me,  however  it 
may  be  with  yours.  She  is  in  a  very  critical  state,  and  seem- 
ingly from  some  recent  shock." 

"  Can  the  news  Chunk  brought  have  had  any  such  effect?" 
broke  forth  Mrs.  Baron  indignantly  —  "news  of  the  death 
of  that  Yankee  whom  she  met  and  treated  as  a  social  equal 
sorely  against  my  will?" 

"  Lieutenant  Scoville  dead ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Whately 
looking  shocked  and  sad. 

"  Yes,  so  Chunk  told  his  granny." 

Mrs.  Whately  was  troubled  indeed.  Perhaps  there  had 
been  much  more  than  she  had  suspected.  If  so,  this  fact 
would  account  for  the  girl's  extreme  prostration.  To  bring 
these  tidings  might  have  been  one  of  Chunk's  chief  motives 
in  venturing  on  his  brief  visit.  Miss  Lou  might  know  all 
about  the  visit  and  even  have  seen  Chunk  herself.  If  this 
were  true,  punishment  of  those  who  were  in  a  sense  her 
accomplices  would  be  all  the  more  disastrous.    The  per- 


CONSPIRA  TORS.  3  3 1 

plexed  matron  felt  that  she  must  have  more  time  to  think 
and  to  acquire  fuller  knowledge  of  the  affair. 

"Brother,"  she  said  finally,  "you  are  the  guardian  of 
Louise  and  in  authority.  She  is  now  helpless  and  at  present 
quiet.  If  quiet  of  mind  and  body  can  be  maintained  long 
enough  she  will  no  doubt  get  well.  In  a  sense  I  am  now 
her  physician,  and  I  say  as  Surgeon  Ackley  said  of  his 
patients,  she  cannot  be  disturbed.  I  positively  forbid  it. 
Dr.  Pelton  who  must  soon  be  here  will  take  the  same 
ground.  Public  opinion  will  support  him  and  me  in  hold- 
ing you  responsible  if  you  order  any  thing  endangering  your 
ward's  life  and  health  at  this  time.  Mrs.  Waldo  and  her 
son  would  be  witnesses.  How  far  the  former  is  acquainted 
with  affairs  we  do  not  know.  She  watched  with  Louise  all 
last  night.  If  you  act  hastily  you  may  be  sorry  indeed.  I 
am  trying  kindness  and  conciliation  with  my  people  and 
they  are  doing  better.  I  fear  your  policy  is  mistaken. 
Chunk  is  gone  and  beyond  punishment.  It  is  asking  much 
to  expect  that  his  grandmother  and  the  girl  who  loves  him 
after  her  fashion  would  give  information  against  him.  It 
would  seem  that  only  the  two  slaves  and  Perkins  know  of 
this  visit.  Affairs  are  bad  enough  with  you  as  it  is  and  you 
can  easily  make  them  much  worse.  If  you  must  punish  for 
effect,  take  some  stout  field  hand  who  is  insubordinate  or 
lazy.  At  any  rate  I  love  Louise  and  hope  some  day  to  call 
her  daughter  and  I  will  not  have  her  life  endangered. 
That's  all  I  have  to  say." 

Mr.  Baron's  flame  of  anger  had  died  out.  His  views  had 
not  been  changed  by  his  harsh  experience,  but  he  had  been 
compelled  to  see  that  there  were  times  when  he  could  not 
have  his  own  way.  So  he  said  testily,  "Well,  well,  we'll 
have  to  let  the  matter  rest  a  while  I  suppose." 

Mrs.  Whately  departed.  Mrs.  Baron  put  her  thin  lips 
together  in  a  way  which  meant  volumes,  and  went  out  on 


332  "MISS  LOU." 

her  housekeeping  round,  giving  her  orders  to  Zany  in  sharper, 
more  metallic  tones  than  usual.  The  delinquent  herself  had 
overheard  enough  of  the  conversation  to  learn  that  the  evil 
day  had  at  least  been  put  off  and  to  get  some  clue  as  to  the 
future. 


CHUNK  PLAYS  SPOOK.  333 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

CHUNK   PLAYS  SPOOK. 

SINCE  Mr.  Baron  had  yielded  for  the  present,  Mrs. 
Whately  was  glad  nothing  need  be  said  to  the  physician 
concerning  their  affairs.  His  positive  injunction  of  quiet 
was  sufficient,  and  now  that  Mr.  Baron  was  impressed  with 
its  need  and  had  had  time  for  sober  second  thought,  he 
concluded  that  he  had  trouble  enough  on  hand  as  it  was. 
He  felt  that  every  quiet  day  gained  was  so  much  towards 
securing  the  absolutely  essential  crops.  Perkins  was  there- 
fore summoned  and  the  situation  in  part  explained. 

The  overseer  was  in  unusual  good  humor  over  the  death 
of  Scoville,  and  if  Chunk  had  escaped  finally,  there  was 
compensation  in  the  thought  of  having  no  more  disturbance 
from  that  source.  So,  fortunately  for  poor  Zany  avarice 
came  to  the  fore  and  Perkins  agreed  that  the  best  thing  to 
do  was  to  bend  every  energy  to  "  making  the  crops,"  using 
severity  only  in  the  furtherance  of  this  end. 

"  Beg  pardon,  Mr.  Baron,  but  I  must  have  sump'n  up  and 
down  clar.  There's  been  so  many  bosses  of  late  en  my 
orders  been  knocked  eendwise  so  of  en  that  I  don't  know, 
en  the  hands  don't  know  whether  I've  got  any  po'r  or  no. 
Ef  this  thing  'bout  Chunk  gits  out,  en  nobody  punished,  the 
fiel'-hans  natchelly  think  we  darsn't  punish.  Mought  es 
well  give  up  then." 

"  Punish  as  much  as  you  think  necessary  to  keep  the 


334  "miss  lou." 

quarter-hands  at  work.  Then  it  is  plain,"  replied  Mr. 
Baron. 

Very  seldom  had  Perkins  been  in  so  complacent  and 
exultant  a  mood  as  when  he  left  the  presence  of  Mr.  Baron 
that  morning.  But  his  troubles  began  speedily.  Jute  had 
slept  little  the  night  before  and  was  stupid  and  indifferent  to 
his  work  in  the  afternoon.  Finding  threats  had  little  effect, 
the  overseer  struck  a  blow  with  his  cane.  The  negro  turned 
fiercely  but  was  confronted  with  a  revolver.  He  resumed 
work  doggedly  his  sullen  look  spreading  like  the  shadow  of 
a  cloud  to  the  faces  of  the  others.  So  many  began  to  grow 
indifferent  and  reckless  that  to  punish  all  was  out  of  the 
question.  Perkins  stormed  and  threatened,  striking  some 
here  and  there,  almost  beside  himself  from  increasing  anxiety 
and  rage.  Whichever  way  he  turned  a  dark  vindictive  face 
met  his  eyes.  The  slaves  had  enjoyed  a  brief  sense  and 
sweet  hope  of  freedom ;  he  was  seeking  to  refasten  the  yoke 
with  brutal  hands  and  it  galled  as  never  before.  Even  his 
narrow  arbitrary  nature  was  impressed  with  the  truth  that  a 
great  change  was  taking  place ;  that  a  proclamation  issued 
hundreds  of  miles  away  was  more  potent  than  his  heavy 
hand.  He  was  as  incapable  of  any  policy  other  than  force 
as  was  his  employer  of  abandoning  the  grooves  in  which  his 
thoughts  had  always  run. 

The  worrisome  afternoon  finally  ended,  leaving  the 
harassed  man  free  to  seek  consolation  from  his  jug.  Mr. 
Baron  relapsed  into  his  quiet  yet  bitter  mental  protest. 
"  Ole  miss  "  maintained  inexorable  discipline  over  the  yard 
and  house  slaves,  keeping  all  busy  in  removing  every  stain 
and  trace  of  the  hospital.  She  governed  by  fear  also,  but  it 
was  the  fear  which  a  resolute  indomitable  will  produces  in 
weaker  natures. 

Mrs.  Waldo  already  felt  uncomfortable.  There  was  no 
lack  of  outward  courtesy,  but  the  two  women  had  so  little  in 


CHUiVJC  PLAYS  SPOOK.  335 

common  that  there  was  almost  a  total  absence  of  sympathy 
between  them.  The  guests  through  the  fortune  of  war 
resolved  therefore  to  depart  in  a  day  or  two,  making  the 
journey  home  by  easy  stages.  Mrs.  Whately  was  both 
polite  and  cordial,  but  she  also  felt  that  the  family  should  be 
alone  as  soon  as  possible,  that  they  were  facing  problems 
which  could  better  be  solved  without  witnesses.  It  was  her 
hope  now  to  nurse  her  charge  back  to  health  and,  by  the 
utmost  exercise  of  tact,  gain  such  an  ascendency  over  the 
girl  as  to  win  her  completely.  Granting  that  the  matron's 
effort  was  part  of  a  scheme,  it  was  one  prompted  by  deep 
affection,  a  yearning  to  call  her  niece  daughter  and  to 
provide  for  the  idolized  son  just  the  kind  of  wife  believed 
to  be  essential  to  his  welfare.  Much  pondering  on  the 
matter  led  her  to  believe  that  even  if  the  tidings  of  Scoville's 
death  had  been  the  cause  of  the  final  prostrating  shock,  it 
was  but  the  slight  blow  required  to  strike  down  one  already 
feeble  and  tottering  to  her  fall.  "  He  probably  made  a 
strong,  but  necessarily  a  passing  impression  on  the  dear 
child's  mind,"  she  reasoned.  "  When  she  gets  well  she  will 
think  of  him  only  as  she  does  of  the  other  Union  soldiers 
who  so  interested  her." 

The  object  of  this  solicitude  was  docile  and  quiet,  taking 
what  was  given  her,  but  evidently  exhausted  beyond  the 
power  of  thought  or  voluntary  action. 

The  night  passed  apparently  without  incident,  but  it  was 
a  busy  one  for  Chunk.  He  again  summoned  Jute  and  his 
other  confederates  to  a  tryst  in  the  grove  to  impress  them 
with  his  plans.  It  was  part  of  his  scheme  to  permit  a  few 
nights  to  pass  quietly  so  that  disturbances  would  not  be 
associated  with  him,  lie  being  supposed  far  away.  In  the 
depths  of  the  adjacent  forest  he  had  found  safe  shelter  for 
himself  and  horse,  and  here,  like  a  beast  in  its  lair  he  slept 
by  day.     The   darkness   was   as   light   to   him   about    the 


336  "miss  lou." 

familiar  plantation,  and  he  prowled  around  at  night 
unmolested. 

During  this  second  meeting  he  attempted  little  more  than 
to  argue  his  dusky  associates  out  of  their  innate  fear  of 
spooks  and  to  urge  upon  them  patience  in  submitting  to 
Perkins's  rule  a  little  longer.  "  I  des  tells  you,"  he  declared, 
"  dey  am'  no  spooks  fer  us  !  Dere's  spooks  on'y  fer  dem  w'at 
kills  folks  on  de  sly-like.  Ef  ole  Perkins  come  rarin'  en 
tarin'  wid  his  gun  en  dawg,  I  des  kill  'im  ez  I  jyud  a 
rattler  en  he  kyant  bodder  me  no  mo' ;  but  ef  I  steal  on  'im 
now  en  kill  'im  in  he  sleep  he  ghos  pester  me  ter  daith. 
Dat  de  conslomeration  ob  de  hull  business.  I  doan  ax  you 
ter  do  anyting  but  he'p  me  skeer  'im  mos'  ter  daith.  He 
watchin'  lak  a  ole  fox  ter  ke'p  you  en  Zany  yere.  Ef  you 
puts  out,  he  riz  de  kentry  en  put  de  houn's  arter  you.  We 
des  got  ter  skeer  'im  off  fust.  I'm  studyin'  how  ter  git  dat 
dawg  out'n  de  way.  Des  go  on  quiet  few  mo'  days  en  ef 
you  year  quar  noises  up  on  de  hill  whar  de  sogers  bur'ed 
you  know  hit  me.  Look  skeered  lak  de  oders  but  doan  be 
fear'd  en  keep  mum." 

The  next  few  days  and  nights  passed  in  quiet  and  all 
began  to  breathe  more  freely.  Even  Aun'  Jinkey  rallied 
under  the  soothing  influence  of  her  pipe  and  the  privilege 
of  watching  part  of  each  day  with  Miss  Lou.  Slowly  the  girl 
began  to  grow  better.  Hoping  not  even  for  tolerance  of 
her  feelings  in  regard  to  Scoville,  it  was  her  instinct  to  con- 
ceal them  from  her  relatives.  She  knew  Mrs.  Waldo  would 
not  reveal  what  Aun'  Jinkey  had  told  her,  and  understood 
the  peculiar  tenderness  with  which  that  lady  often  kissed  her. 
She  also  guessed  that  while  the  staunch  Southern  friend 
had  deep  sympathy  for  her  there  was  not  very  strong  regret 
that  the  affair  had  ended  in  a  way  to  preclude  further 
complications. 

*  Remember,  my  dear,"  said  Mrs.  Waldo,  in  her  affec- 


CHUNK  PLAYS  SPOOK.  337 

tionate  parting,  "that  God  never  utterly  impoverishes  our 
lives.  Only  we  ourselves  can  do  that.  You  will  get  well 
and  become  happy  in  making  others  happy." 

On  the  evening  of  that  day,  even  Mr.  Baron's  routine  was 
completely  restored.  His  larder  was  meagre  compared 
with  the  past,  but  with  the  exception  that  Mrs.  Whately 
occupied  the  place  of  his  niece  at  the  table,  and  viands 
were  fewer,  all  was  as  it  had  been.  Zany's  fears  had  sub- 
sided leaving  her  inwardly  chafing  at  the  prospect  of  mo- 
notonous and  indefinite  years  of  work  under  "ole  miss," 
with  little  chance  of  Chunk's  return.  Aun'  Suke's  taste  of 
freedom  had  not  been  to  her  mind,  so  she  was  rather  com- 
placent than  otherwise,  and  especially  over  the  fact  that 
there  was  so  little  to  cook.  The  garden  and  Mr.  Baron's 
good  credit  would  insure  enough  plain  food  till  the  crops 
matured  and  the  impoverishment  caused  by  the  raid  was 
repaired.  It  certainly  seemed  when  the  sun  set  that  even- 
ing that  the  present  aspect  of  affairs  might  be  maintained 
indefinitely  in  the  little  community. 

Only  one  was  not  exactly  at  rest.  Perkins  felt  as  if  some- 
thing was  in  the  air.  There  was  a  brooding,  sullen  quiet 
among  the  negroes  which  led  him  to  suspect  that  they  were 
waiting  and  hoping  for  something  unknown  to  him.  This 
was  true  of  Uncle  Lusthah  and  the  majority.  The  crack  of 
Union  rifles  was  the  "  soun'  f  um  far  away  "  they  were  listen- 
ing for.  By  secret  channels  of  communication  tidings  of 
distant  battles  were  conveyed  from  plantation  to  plantation, 
and  the  slaves  were  often  better  informed  than  their  mas- 
ters. As  for  Perkins,  he  knew  next  to  nothing  of  what  was 
taking  place,  nor  did  he  dream  that  he  was  daily  addressing 
harsh  words  to  conspirators  against  his  peace. 

The  time  had  come  when  Chunk  was  ready  to  act.  On 
the  night  in  question  a  hot  wind  arose  which  blew  from  the 
little  burial-place  on  the  hill  towards  the  house.    "  Hi  !  now's 


338  "miss  lou." 

de  charnce  ter  fix  dat  ar  bizness ! "  and  he  made  his 
preparations.  Shortly  before  midnight  he  crept  like  a  cat 
under  the  overseer's  window.  The  heavy  snoring  rose  and 
fell  reassuringly,  sweet  as  music  to  Chunk's  ears.  Not  so 
the  angry,  restless  growling  of  the  savage  bloodhound 
chained  within.  "  But  you  doan  kotch  me  dis  yere  time  fer 
all  yer  fuss,  Marse  Grip,"  the  negro  muttered.  "I  done 
hab  yer  brekfus'  ready  fer  yer  !  Dat'll  settle  yer  hash,"  and 
with  deft  hand  a  piece  of  poisoned  meat  was  tossed  close  to 
the  brute's  feet  as  Chunk  hastened  away.  Jute  was  next 
wakened  and  put  on  the  watch.  An  hour  later  there  came 
from  the  soldiers'  cemetery  the  most  doleful,  unearthly 
sounds  imaginable.  No  need  for  Jute  and  his  confederates 
to  arouse  the  other  negroes  in  the  quarters.  A  huddled 
frightened  gang  sooh  collected,  Aun'  Jinkey  among  them  so 
scared  she  could  not  speak. 

"Marse  Perkins  ought  to  know  'bout  dis,"  cried 
Jute. 

The  suggestion  was  enough.  The  whole  terror-stricken 
throng  rushed  in  a  body  to  the  overseer's  cottage  and  began 
calling  and  shrieking,  "  Come  out  yere  !  come  out  yere  ! " 
Confused  in  his  sudden  waking  and  thinking  he  was 
mobbed,  he  shouted  through  the  window,  "  I'll  shoot  a 
dozen  of  yer  efyer  don't  clar  out." 

"  Marse  Perkins,  des  you  lis'n,"  rose  in  chorus  from  those 
far  beyond  the  fear  of  mortal  weapons. 

In  the  silence  that  followed  the  rushing  wind  bore  down  to 
them  a  weird,  dismal  howl  that  in  Perkins's  ears  met  every 
ghostly  requirement.  His  teeth  began  to  chatter  like  casti- 
nets  and  snatching  his  jug  of  corn  whiskey  he  swallowed 
great  draughts. 

"  We  des  tink  you  orter  know  'bout  dis,"  said  Jute. 

"Cert'ny,"  cried  Perkins  in  his  sudden  flame  of  false 
courage.    "  I'll  light  a  lantern  and  take  twenty  o'  you  hands 


CHUNK  PLAYS  SPOOK.  339 

round  that  place.  Ef  thar's  a  cuss  yonder  makin'  this  'stur- 
bance  we'll  roast  'im  alive." 

In  a  moment  or  two  he  dressed  and  came  out  with  a 
light  and  his  gun.  Two  revolvers  were  also  stuck  in  his 
belt.  As  he  appeared  on  the  threshold  there  was  a  pro- 
longed yell  which  curdled  even  his  inflamed  blood  and  sent 
some  of  the  negro  women  into  hysterics. 

"Come  on,"  shouted  the  overseer  hoarsely,  "thirty  of 
yer  ef  yer  afraid." 

The  crowd  fell  back.  "  We  ain'  gwine  ter  dat  ar  spook 
place,  no  mattah  w'at  you  do  to  us." 

"Perkins,  what  is  the  matter?"  Mr.  Baron  was  heard 
shouting  from  the  house. 

"  Reckon  you  better  come  out  yere  sir." 

"  Are  the  hands  making  trouble  ?  " 

"  No  sir,  sump'n  quar's  gwine  on,  what  we  kyant  mek 
out  yit." 

Mr.  Baron,  wrapped  in  his  dressing-gown,  soon  appeared 
on  the  scene,  while  Aun'  Suke's  domain  contributed  its 
quota  also  of  agitated,  half-dressed  forms.  Chunk  could 
not  resist  the  temptation  to  be  a  witness  to  the  scene  and 
in  a  copse  near  by  was  grinning  with  silent  laughter  at  his 
success. 

After  learning  what  had  occurred,  Mr.  Baron  scoffed  at 
their  superstitions,  sternly  bidding  all  to  go  to  their  places 
and  keep  quiet.  "  Perkins,  you've  been  drinking  beyond 
reason,"  he  warned  his  overseer  in  a  low  voice.  "  Get 
back  to  your  room  quick  or  you  will  be  the  laughing-stock 
of  everybody  !  See  here,  you  people,  you  have  simply  got 
into  a  panic  over  the  howling  of  the  wind,  which  happens 
to  blow  down  from  the  graveyard  to-night." 

"  Neber  yeared  de  win'  howl  dat  away  befo',"  the  negroes 
answered,  as  in  a  mass  they  drifted  back  to  the  quarters. 

Perkins  was  not  only  aware  of  his  condition  but  was  only 


340  "M/SS  LOU." 

too  glad  to  have  so  good  an  excuse  for  not  searching  the 
cemetery.  Scarcely  had  he  been  left  alone,  however,  before 
he  followed  the  negroes,  resolved  upon  companionship  of 
even  those  in  whom  he  denied  a  humanity  like  his  own. 
In  the  darkness  Chunk  found  an  opportunity  to  summon 
Jute  aside  and  say,  "  Free  er  fo'  ob  you  offer  ter  stay  wid 
ole  Perkins.     Thet  he'p  me  out." 

Perkins  accepted  the  offer  gladly,  and  they  agreed  to 
watch  at  his  door  and  in  the  little  hall-way. 

"You  mus'  des  tie  up  dat  ar  dawg  ob  yourn,"  first 
stipulated  Jute. 

"Why,  whar  in is  the  dog?     Hain't  yeared  a  sound 

from  'im  sence  the  'sturbance  begun." 

"  Dawgs  kyant  stan'  spooks  nohow,"  remarked  Jute. 

"I've  yeared  that,"  admitted  Perkins,  looking  around 
for  the  animal. 

"  Thar  he  is,  un'er  yo'  baid,"  said  Jute,  peeking  through 
the  doorway. 

The  miserable  man's  hair  fairly  stood  up  when  the  brute 
was  discovered  stark  and  dead  without  a  scratch  upon  him. 
Recourse  was  again  had  to  the  jug  and  oblivion  soon 
followed. 


A    VISITATION.  341 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

A  VISITATION. 

THERE  was  no  more  sleep  at  the  quarters  that  night, 
and  never  was  the  dawn  more  welcome.  It  only 
brought  a  respite,  however,  for  the  impression  was  fixed  that 
the  place  was  haunted.  There  was  a  settled  aspect  of  gloom 
and  anxiety  on  every  dusky  face  in  the  morning.  Mr. 
Baron  found  his  overseer  incapacitated  for  duty,  but  the 
hands  were  rather  anxious  to  go  to  work  and  readily  obeyed 
his  orders  to  do  so.  They  clung  to  all  that  was  familiar  and 
every-day-like,  while  their  fears  and  troubled  consciences 
spurred  them  to  tasks  which  they  felt  might  be  a  sort  of 
propitiation  to  the  mysterious  powers  abroad.  Zany  was 
now  sorry  indeed  that  she  had  not  gone  with  Chunk,  and 
poor  Aun'  Jinkey  so  shook  and  trembled  all  day  that  Mrs. 
Whately  would  not  let  her  watch  by  Miss  Lou.  Knowing 
much  of  negro  superstitions  she  believed,  with  her  brother 
and  Mrs.  Baron,  that  the  graves  on  the  place,  together  with 
some  natural,  yet  unusual  sounds,  had  started  a  panic  which 
would  soon  die  out.        , 

When  at  last  Perkins,  shaky  and  nervous,  reported  the 
mysterious  death  of  his  dog,  Mr.  Baron  was  perplexed,  but 
nothing  more.  "  You  were  in  no  condition  to  give  a  sane 
account  of  anything  that  happened  last  night,"  he  said 
curtly.  "  Be  careful  in  the  future.  If  you  will  only  be  sen- 
sible about  it,  this  ridiculous  scare  will  be  to  our  advantage, 


342  "MISS  LOU." 

for  the  hands  are  subdued  enough  now  and  frightened  into 
their  duty." 

Perkins  remained  silent.  In  truth,  he  was  more  fright- 
ened than  any  one  else,  for  the  death  of  his  dog  appeared 
to  single  him  out  as  a  special  object  of  ghostly  hostility. 
He  got  through  the  day  as  well  as  he  could,  but  dreaded 
the  coming  night  all  the  more  as  he  saw  eyes  directed 
towards  him,  as  if  he,  in  some  way,  were  the  cause  of  the 
supernatural  visitation.  This  belief  was  due  to  the  fact  that 
Aun'  Jinkey  in  her  terror  had  spoken  of  Scoville's  death 
although  she  would  not  tell  how  she  knew  about  it.  "  Per- 
kins shoot  at  en  try  ter  kill  Marse  Scoville,"  she  had  whis- 
pered to  her  cronies,  "  en  now  he  daid  he  spook  comin' 
yere  ter  hant  de  oberseer.  We  neber  hab  no  quiet  nights 
till  dat  ar  Perkins  go  way  fer  good." 

This  rational  explanation  passed  from  lip  to  lip  and  was 
generally  accepted.  The  coming  night  was  looked  forward 
to  in  deep  apprehension,  and  by  none  more  than  by  Perkins. 
Indeed,  his  fears  so  got  the  better  of  him  that  when  the 
hands  quit  work  he  started  for  the  nearest  tavern  and  there 
remained  till  morning.  Chunk  was  made  aware  of  this  fact, 
and  the  night  passed  in  absolute  quiet.  All  the  negroes  not 
in  the  secret  now  hoped  that  the  overseer  was  the  sole  prey 
of  the  spook,  and  that  if  they  remained  quietly  in  their 
places  they  would  be  unmolested.  Chunk  and  a  few  of  the 
boldest  of  his  fellow  conspirators  had  full  scope  therefore 
to  perfect  their  final  arrangements.  In  a  disused  room  of 
one  of  the  out-buildings  the  most  ragged  and  blood-stained 
uniforms  of  the  Union  soldiers  had  been  cast  and  forgotten. 
These  were  carried  to  a  point  near  the  burying-ground,  tried 
on  and  concealed.  Chunk  found  it  was  no  easy  task  to 
keep  even  the  reckless  fellows  he  had  picked  up  to  the 
sticking  point  of  courage  in  the  gruesome  tasks  he  had  in 
view,  but  his   scoff,  together  with  their  mutual   aid   and 


A    VISITATION.  343 

comfort,  carried  them  through,  while  the  hope  of  speedy 
freedom  inspired  them  to  what  was  felt  to  be  great  risks. 

On  this  occasion  he  dismissed  them  some  little  time 
before  midnight,  for  he  wished  them  to  get  rested  and  in 
good  condition  for  what  he  hoped  would  be  the  final  effort 
the  following  night.  As  he  lingered  in  the  still,  starlit 
darkness  he  could  not  resist  making  an  effort  to  see  Zany, 
and  so  began  hooting  like  an  owl  down  by  the  run,  gradu- 
ally approaching  nearer  till  he  reached  the  garden.  Zany, 
wakeful  and  shivering  with  nameless  dread,  was  startled  by 
the  sound.  Listening  intently,  she  soon  believed  she 
detected  a  note  that  was  Chunk's  and  not  a  bird's.  Her 
first  impression  was  that  her  lover  had  discovered  that  he 
could  not  go  finally  away  without  her  and  so  had  returned. 
Her  fear  of  spooks  was  so  great  that  her  impulse  was  to  run 
away  with  Chunk  as  far  from  that  haunted  plantation  as  he 
would  take  her.  Trembling  like  a  wind-shaken  leaf,  she 
stole  into  the  garden  shrubbery  and  whispered,  "  Chunk  ? '' 

"  Hi !  yere  I  is." 

There  was  no  tantalizing  coquetry  in  Zany's  manner  now. 
In  a  moment  she  was  in  Chunk's  arms  sobbing,  "  Tek  me 
way  off  fum  dis  place.  I  go  wid  you  now,  dis  berry  minute, 
en  I  neber  breve  easy  till  we  way,  way  off  enywhar,  I  doan 
keer  whar.  O  Chunk,  you  doan  know  w'at  been  gwine  on 
en  I  darsn't  tell  you  twel  we  gits  way  off." 

"  I  isn't  feared,"  replied  Chunk  easily. 

"  Dat's  kaze  you  doan  know.  1  des  been  tremblin'  stiddy 
sence  las'  night  en  I'se  feared  hit  begin  eny  minute 
now." 

"  Hit  woan  begin  dis  yere  night,"  replied  Chunk,  sooth- 
ingly and  incautiously. 

"  How  you  know?  "  she  asked  quickly,  a  sudden  suspicion 
entering  her  mind. 

"Wat's  ter  begin?"  answered  Chunk,  now  on  his  guard. 


344  "miss  lou." 

"De  night  am  still,  nobody  roun\  I  hang  roun'  a  few 
nights  twel  I  study  out  de  bes'  planner  git  away." 

"Has  you  been  hangin'  roun'  nights,  Chunk?"  Zany 
asked  solemnly. 

"  How  you  talks,  Zany !  Does  you  spects  I  dar  stay 
roun'  whar  Perkins  am  ?  He  kill  me.  He  done  gone  way 
to-night." 

"  How  you  know  dat?  " 

"  One  de  fieF-hans  tole  me." 

"  Chunk,  ef  you  up  ter  shines  en  doan  tole  me  I  done 
wid  you.  Hasn't  I  hep  you  out'n  in  eberyting  so  fur?  Ef  I 
fin'  out  you  been  skeerin  me  so  wid  eny  doin's  I  des  done 
wid  you.  I  des  feel  hit  in  my  bones  you  de  spook.  You 
kyant  bamboozle  me.  I  kin  hep  you  —  hab  done  hit  afo' 
—  en  I  kin  hinder  you,  so  be  keerful.  Dere's  some 
dit'unce  in  bein'  a  spook  yosef  en  bein'  skeered  ter  death  by 
a  rale  spook.  Ef  you  tryin'  ter  skeer  en  fool  me  I  be  wuss 
on  you  ner  eny  Voodoo  woman  dat  eber  kunjurd  folks." 

The  interview  ended  in  Chunk's  making  a  clean  breast  of 
it  and  in  securing  Zany  as  an  ally  with  mental  reservations. 
The  thought  that  he  had  fooled  her  rankled. 

Mr.  Baron's  expostulation  and  his  own  pressing  interests 
induced  Perkins  to  remain  at  home  the  following  night.  As 
Jute  had  seemed  forgiving  and  friendly,  the  overseer  asked 
him  to  bring  two  others  and  stay  with  him,  offering  some  of 
the  contents  of  the  replenished  jug  as  a  reward.  They  sat 
respectfully  near  the  door  while  Perkins  threw  himself  on 
his  bed  with  the  intention  of  getting  to  sleep  as  soon  as 
possible.  "Are  you  shore  ther  wuz  no  'sturbances  last 
night?  "  he  asked. 

"  Well,  Marse  Perkins,"  replied  Jute,  "  you  didn't  'spect 
we  out  lookin'.  We  wuz  po'ful  sleepy  en  roll  we  haids  en 
er  blankets  en  den  'fo'  we  knowed,  hit  sun-up.  Folks  say  en 
de  quarters  dat  ar  spook  ain'  arter  us." 


A    VISITATION.  345 

"Who  the  devil  is  hit  arter  then?"  was  the  angry 
response. 

"  How  we  know  mars'r  ?  We  neber  try  ter  kill  eny 
body." 

"But  I  tell  you  I  didn't  kill  him,"  expostulated  their 
nervous  victim. 

"  Didn't  name  no  names,  Marse  Perkins.  I  on'y  knows 
w'at  I  yeared  folks  tell  'bout  spooks.  Dey's  mighty  cur'us, 
spooks  is.  Dey  des  'pear  to  git  a  spite  agin  some  folks  en 
dey  ain'  bodderin  oder  folks  long  ez  dey  ain'  'feered  wid.  I 
'spect  a  spook  dat  wuz  'feered  wid,  get  he  dander  up  en 
slam  roun'  permiscus.  I  des  tek  a  ole  bull  by  de  horns  'fo' 
I  'fere  wid  a  spook,"  and  Jute's  companions  grunted  assent. 

"  Wat's  the  good  o'  yer  bein'  yere  then?"  Perkins  asked, 
taking  a  deep  draught. 

"Well,  now,  Marse  Perkins,  you  mus'n  be  onreasonbul. 
W'at  cud  we  do?  We  des  riskin'  de  wool  on  we  haids 
stayin'  yere  fer  comp'ny.  Ef  de  spook  come,  spose  he  tink 
we  no  business  yere  en  des  lay  we  out  lak  he  kunjer  yo' 
dawg  ?  We  des  tank  you  Marse  Perkins  fer  anoder  lil  drap 
ter  kep  we  sperets  out'n  we  shoon,"  and  Jute  shuddered 
portentously. 

"  Well,"  said  Perkins,  with  attempted  bravado,  "  I 
rammed  a  piece  o'  silver  down  on  the  bullat  in  my  gun. 
'Twix  'em  both  "  — 

"  Dar  now,  Marse  Perkins,  you  des  been  'posed  on  'bout 
dat  silber  business.  Ole  Unc'  Sampson  w'at  libed  on  de 
Simcoe  place  nigh  on  er  hun'erd  yeahs  dey  say,  tole  me  lots 
'bout  a  spook  dat  boddered  urn  w'en  he  a  boy.  Way  back 
ole  Marse  Simcoe  shot  at  de  man  dat  hanker  fer  he  darter. 
De  man  put  out  en  get  drownded,  but  dat  doan  make  no 
dii'rence  Unc'  Sampson  say,  kaze  ole  Marse  Simcoe  do  he 
bes'  ter  kill  der  man.  He  sorter  hab  kill  in  he  heart  en 
Unc'  Sampson  low  a  spook  know  w'at  gwine  on  in  er  man's 


346  "miss  lou." 

in'erds,  en  dey  des  goes  fer  de  man  dat  wanter  kill  um  on 
de  sly,  en  not  dose  dat  kill  in  fa'r  fight.  Ole  Unc'  Sampson 
po'ful  on  spooks.  He  libed  so  long  he  get  ter  be  sorter 
spook  hesef,  en  dey  say  he  talk  ter  um  haf  de  time  'fo'  he 
kiner  des  snuf  out'n  lak  a  can'l." 

"  He  vvuz  a  silly  old  fool,"  growled  Perkins,  with  a  per- 
ceptible tremor  in  his  voice. 

"  Spect  he  wuz  'bout  some  tings,"  resumed  Jute,  "  but 
know  spooks,  he  sut'ny  did.  He  say  ole  Marse  Simcoe 
useter  plug  lead  en  silver  right  froo  dat  man  dat  want  he 
darter,  en  dar  was  de  hole  en  de  light  shin'in'  froo  hit.  But 
de  spook  ain'  min'in'  a  lil  ting  lak  dat,  he  des  come  on  all 
de  same  snoopin'  roun'  arter  de  ole  man's  darter.  Den  one 
mawnin'  de  ole  man  lay  stiff  en  daid  in  he  baid,  he  eyes 
starin'  open  ez  ef  he  see  sump'n  he  cudn't  stan'  no  how. 
Dat  wuz  de  las'  ob  dat  ar  spook,  Unc'  Sampson  say,  en  he 
say  spook's  cur'us  dat  away.  Wen  dey  sats'fy  dere  grudge 
dey  lets  up  en  dey  doan  foller  de  man  dey  down  on  kaze 
dey  on'y  po'r  inde  place  whar  de  man  'lowed  ter  kill  um." 

Perkins  took  a  mental  note  of  this  very  important  limita- 
tion of  ghostly  persecution,  and  resolved  that  if  he  had  any 
more  trouble  all  the  crops  in  the  State  would  not  keep  him 
within  the  haunted  limit. 

He  whiled  away  the  time  by  aid  of  his  jug  and  Job-like 
comforters  till  it  began  to  grow  late  and  he  drowsy. 

Suddenly  Jute  exclaimed,  "  Hi !  Marse  Perkins,  w'at  dat 
light  dancin'  up  yon'er  by  de  grabeyard?" 

The  overseer  rose  with  a  start,  his  hair  rising  also  as  he 
saw  a  fitful  jack-o'-lantern  gleam,  appearing  and  disappearing 
on  the  cemetery  hill.  As  had  been  expected,  he  obeyed 
his  impulse,  pouring  down  whiskey  until  he  speedily  rendered 
himself  utterly  helpless ;  but  while  his  intoxication  disabled 
him  physically,  it  produced  for  a  time  an  excited  and  dis- 
ordered condition  of  mind  in  which  he  was  easily  imposed 


A    VISITATION.  347 

upon.  Jute  shook  him  and  adjured  him  to  get  up,  saying, 
"  I  years  quar  soun's  comin*  dis  way." 

When  satisfied  that  their  victim  could  make  no  resistance, 
Jute  and  companions  pretended  to  start  away  in  terror. 
Perkins  tried  to  implore  them  to  remain,  but  his  lips  seemed 
paralyzed.  A  few  moments  later  a  strange  group  entered 
the  cottage  —  five  figures  dressed  in  Federal  uniforms,  hands 
and  faces  white  and  ghastly,  and  two  carrying  white  cavalry 
sabres.  Each  one  had  its  finger  on  its  lips,  but  Perkins  was 
beyond  speech.  In  unspeakable  horror  he  stared  vacantly 
before  him  and  remained  silent  and  motionless.  The 
ghostly  shapes  looked  at  him  fixedly  for  a  brief  time,  then 
at  one  another,  and  solemnly  nodded.  Next,  four  took  him 
up  and  bore  him  out,  the  fifth  following  with  the  jug.  At 
the  door  stood  an  immovably  tall  form,  surmounted  by  a 
cavalry  hat  and  wrapped  in  a  long  army  overcoat. 

"  Leftenant  Scoville  !  "  gasped  Perkins. 

The  figure,  as  if  the  joints  of  its  back  were  near  the 
ground,  made  a  portentous  inclination  of  assent  and  then 
pointed  with  another  white  sabre  to  the  hill,  leading  the 
way.  Perkins  tried  to  shout  for  help,  but  his  tongue  seemed 
powerless,  as  in  fact  it  was,  from  terror  and  liquor  combined. 
He  felt  himself  carried  swiftly  and,  as  he  thought,  surely, 
to  some  terrible  doom. 

At  last  his  bearers  stopped,  and  Perkins  saw  the  mounds 
of  the  Union  dead  rising  near.  He  now  remembered  in 
a  confused  way  that  one  more  grave  had  been  dug  than  had 
proved  necessary,  and  he  uttered  a  low  howl  as  he  felt  him- 
self lowered  into  it.  Instantly  the  tall  figure  which  appeared 
to  direct  every  thing  threatened  him  with  a  ghostly  sabre, 
and  an  utter  paralysis  of  unspeakable  dread  fell  upon  him. 

For  a  few  moments  they  all  stood  around  and  pointed  at 
him  with  ghostly  white  fingers,  then  gradually  receded  until 
out  of  sight.     After  a  time  Perkins  began  to  get  his  voice, 


34$  "MISS  LOU." 

when  suddenly  his  tormentors  appeared  in  terrible  guise. 
Each  white,  ghostly  face  was  lighted  up  as  by  a  tongue  of 
fire ;  terrible  eyes  gleamed  from  under  wide  crowned  cav- 
alry hats  and  a  voice  was  heard,  in  a  sepulchral  whisper, 
"  Nex'  time  we  come  fer  you,  we  bury  you  !  " 

At  this  instant  came  a  flash  of  lightning,  followed  by  a 
tremendous  clap  of  thunder.  The  jaws  of  the  figures 
dropped,  the  burning  splinters  of  light-wood  they  carried 
dropping  down  into  the  grave,  and  on  its  half  lifeless  occu- 
pant. The  ghosts  now  disappeared  finally  —  in  fact  took  to 
their  heels ;  all  except  Chunk,  who  secured  the  jug,  nodded 
thrice  portentously  at  Perkins  and  then  retired  also,  not 
a  little  shaken  in  his  nerves,  but  sufficiently  self-controlled 
to  rally  his  panic-stricken  followers  and  get  them  to  remove 
their  disguises  before  wrapping  their  heads  in  blankets. 
Having  removed  and  hidden  all  traces  of  the  escapade  he 
hooted  for  the  alert  Zany,  who  had  been  tremblingly  on  the 
watch  in  spite  of  her  knowledge  of  what  was  going  on.  As 
she  fled  with  Chunk  before  the  coming  storm  she  gasped 
between  the  gusts,  u  I  declar,  Chunk,  sech  doin's  gwine  ter 
brung  a  judgment." 

Even  Chunk  inclined  to  this  view  for  a  time,  as  the  light- 
ning blazed  from  sky  to  earth,  and  the  thunder  cracked  and 
roared  overhead.  The  rain  poured  in  such  torrents  that  he 
feared  Perkins  might  be  drowned  in  the  grave  where  he  had 
been  placed.  As  for  Aun'  Jinkey,  she  stared  at  her  unex- 
pected visitors  in  speechless  perplexity  and  terror  until  the 
fury  of  the  tempest  had  passed  and  their  voices  could  be 
heard. 


UNCLE  LUSTHAH  EXHORTS.  349 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

UNCLE   LUSTHAH   EXHORTS. 

THE  heavy  thunder  shower  which  came  and  passed 
quickly,  combined  with  a  consciousness  of  their 
high-handed  performances,  so  awed  Chunk  and  Zany  and 
oppressed  them  with  misgivings  that  they  were  extremely 
reticent,  even  to  Aun'  Jinkey.  Chunk  appeared  profoundly 
ignorant  of  the  ghostly  disturbances,  trying  to  say  uncon- 
cernedly, "  I  foun'  hit  a  orful  long  en  skeery  trable  ter  de 
Un'on  lines  en  I  says  ter  mysef,  '  De  Yanks  fin'  me  down 
yere  quicker  ner  I  fin'  dem  up  Norf.  Dey  be  comin'  dis 
away  agin  sho'." 

"  I  des  tells  you  we  all  git  whip  nigh  ter  daith  ef  you  ain' 
mo'  keerful,"  said  Aun'  Jinkey,  solemnly.  "  I  kyant  stan' 
de  goin's  on.  I  gwine  ter  pieces  ev'y  day  en  nights  git'n 
wusser'n  de  days.  De  gust  ober  en  you  bettah  light  out. 
Ef  Zany  missed  dey  come  yere  lookin'  fer  her." 

They  needed  no  urging  to  depart,  for  Zany  was  now  as 
scared  as  Chunk  had  ever  wished  her  to  be,  but  her  terrors 
were  taking  a  form  which  inclined  her  to  cling  to  the  old 
landmarks  rather  than  risk  she  knew  not  what,  in  running 
away.  As  she  and  Chunk  were  stealing  towards  the  kitchen 
a  flash  of  lightning  from  the  retiring  storm  revealed  a  startling 
figure  —  that  of  Perkins,  drenched  and  bedraggled,  his  eyes 
almost  starting  from  their  sockets  as  he  staggered  towards 
his  cottage.  Chunk's  courage  at  last  gave  way ;  he  turned 
and  fled,  leaving  Zany  in  the  lurch.     Frightened  almost  to 


350  "MISS  LOU." 

the  point  of  hysterics,  she  crept  to  her  bed  and  shook  till 
morning,  resolving  meantime  to  have  done  with  Chunk  and 
all  his  doings.  The  next  day  Mrs.  Baron  found  her  the 
most  diligent  and  faithful  of  servants. 

Perkins  reached  his  door  and  looked  into  the  dark 
entrance,  the  gusts  having  blown  out  the  light.  He  shook 
his  head,  muttered  something  unintelligible,  and  then  bent 
his  uncertain  steps  to  the  tavern.  The  next  morning  Mr. 
Baron  suspected  where  he  was  and  went  to  see  him.  The 
overseer  was  found  to  be  a  pitiable  spectacle,  haggard, 
trembling,  nervous  in  the  extreme,  yet  sullen  and  reticent 
and  resolute  in  his  purpose  never  to  set  foot  on  the  planta- 
tion again.  Mr.  Baron  then  closed  all  business  relations 
and  sent  over  the  man's  belongings.  Perkins  became  a 
perplexing  problem  to  Mr.  Baron  and  his  household  and 
a  terrible  tradition  to  the  negroes,  who  regarded  him  as  a 
haunted  man.  Every  day  and  night  passed  in  quietness 
after  his  departure  enabled  them  to  breathe  more  freely  and 
to  become  more  assured  that  he  "wuz  de  on'y  one  de 
spooks  arter." 

Chunk  felt  that  he  had  disgraced  himself  by  running  away 
and  leaving  Zany,  and  did  not  venture  back  till  the  second 
night  after  the  culmination  of  his  schemes.  He  found  Jute 
and  his  associates  scared,  sullen  and  inclined  to  have  little 
to  do  with  him  in  their  present  mood.  Then  he  hooted  in 
vain  for  Zany.  The  girl  heard  him  but  made  no  sign, 
muttering,  "Sence  you  runned  away  en  lef  me  I'se  done 
wid  runnin'  away.  You  tootin'  lak  a  squinch-owl  en  kin 
kep  comp'ny  wid  squinch-owls." 

Only  Aun'  Jinkey  gave  him  food  and  a  sort  of  fearful 
welcome,  and  poor  Chunk  found  himself  at  last  a  very 
unhappy  and  skulking  outlaw. 

Mr.  Baron  gradually  rallied  under  his  increased  responsi- 
bilities and  resolved  to  be  his  own  overseer.    Although  an 


UNCLE  LUSTHAH  EXHORTS.  35  I 

exacting  master,  the  negroes  knew  he  was  not  a  severe  one 
if  they  did  their  work  fairly  well.  The  spook  scare  had 
given  Uncle  Lusthah  renewed  influence  and  he  used  it  in 
behalf  of  peace  and  order.  "  Our  fren  Miss  Lou,  sick,"  he 
urged.  "  We  mek  her  trouble  en  we  mek  oursefs  trouble  ef 
we  doan  go  on  peac'ble.  What  kin  we  do  eny  way  at  dis 
yer  time?  De  Norf  fightin'  fer  us  en  hit  all  'pen'  on  de 
Norf.  We  mus'  kep  a  gwine  ez  we  is  till  de  times  en  sea- 
sons ob  de  Lawd  is  'vealed." 

And  so  for  a  period,  quiet  again  settled  down  on  the  old 
plantation.  Mrs.  Whately  and  Aun'  Jinkey  nursed  Miss 
Lou  into  a  slow,  languid  convalescence,  till  at  last  she  was 
able  to  sit  in  an  easy  chair  on  the  piazza.  This  she  would 
do  by  the  hour,  with  a  sad,  apathetic  look  on  her  thin  face. 
She  was  greatly  changed,  her  old  rounded  outlines  had 
shrunken  and  she  looked  frail  enough  for  the  winds  to  blow 
away.  The  old,  fearless,  spirited  look  in  her  blue  eyes  had 
departed  utterly,  leaving  only  an  expression  of  settled  sad- 
ness, varied  by  an  anxious,  expectant  gaze,  suggesting  a 
lingering  hope  that  some  one  might  come  or  something 
happen  to  break  the  dreadful  silence  which  began,  she  felt, 
when  Scoville  fell  from  his  horse  in  the  darkening  forest. 
It  remained  unbroken,  and  her  heart  sunk  into  more  hope- 
less despondency  daily.  Aun'  Jinkey  and  Zany  were  charged 
so  sternly  to  say  nothing  to  disturb  the  mind  of  their  young 
mistress  that  they  obeyed.  She  was  merely  given  the  impres- 
sion that  Perkins  had  gone  away  of  his  own  will,  and  this 
was  a  relief.  She  supposed  Chunk  had  returned  to  his 
Union  friends  and  this  also  became  the  generally  accepted 
view  of  all  except  Aun'  Jinkey. 

Mrs.  Whately  came  to  spend  part  of  the  time  at  the  Oaks 
and  part  on  her  own  plantation,  where  her  presence  was 
needed.  Her  devotion  would  have  won  Miss  Lou's  whole 
heart  but  for  the  girl's  ever  present  consciousness  of  Mad 


352  "MISS  LOU." 

Whately  in  the  background.  The  mother  now  had  the  tact 
to  say  nothing  about  him  except  in  a  natural  and  general 
way,  occasionally  trying  the  experiment  of  reading  extracts 
from  his  brief  letters,  made  up,  as  they  were,  chiefly  of 
ardent  messages  to  his  cousin.  These  Miss  Lou  received 
in  silence  and  unfeigned  apathy. 

The  respite  and  quiet  could  not  last  very  long  in  these 
culminating  months  of  the  war.  Without  much  warning 
even  to  the  negroes,  who  appeared  to  have  a  sort  of  tele- 
graphic communication  throughout  the  region,  a  Union  col- 
umn forced  its  way  down  the  distant  railroad  and  made  it 
a  temporary  line  of  communication.  Mr.  Baron  suddenly 
woke  up  to  the  fact  that  the  nearest  town  was  occupied  by 
the  Federals  and  that  his  human  property  was  in  a  ferment. 
A  foraging  party  soon  appeared  in  the  neighborhood  and 
even  visited  him,  but  his  statement  of  what  he  had  suffered 
and  the  evident  impoverishment  of  the  place  led  the  Union 
officer  to  seek  more  inviting  fields. 

Partly  to  satisfy  her  own  mind  as  well  as  that  of  her  niece, 
Mrs.  Whately  asked  after  Scoville,  but  could  obtain  no  in- 
formation. The  troops  in  the  vicinity  were  of  a  different 
organization,  the  leader  of  the  party  a  curt,  grizzled  veteran, 
bent  only  on  obtaining  supplies.  Miss  Lou,  sitting  help- 
lessly in  her  room,  felt  instinctively  that  she  did  not  wish 
even  to  speak  to  him. 

To  Chunk,  this  Union  advance  was  a  godsend.  He 
immediately  took  his  horse  to  the  railroad  town,  sold  it  for 
a  small  sum,  and  found  employment  at  the  station,  where 
his  great  strength  secured  him  good  wages.  He  could 
handle  with  ease  a  barrel  akin  to  himself  in  shape  and  size. 

Uncle  Lusthah  suddenly  found  immense  responsibility 
thrust  upon  him.  In  the  opinion  of  the  slaves  the  time  and 
seasons  he  had  predicted  and  asked  his  flock  to  wait  for 
had   come.     Negroes   from  other  and   nearer  plantations 


UNCLE  LUSTHAH  EXHORTS.  353 

were  thronging  to  the  town,  and  those  at  the  Oaks  were 
rapidly  forming  the  purpose  to  do  likewise.  They  only 
waited  the  sanction  of  their  religious  teacher  to  go  almost 
in  a  body.  The  old  preacher  was  satisfied  they  would  soon 
go  any  way,  unless  inducements  and  virtual  freedom  were 
offered.  He  therefore  sought  Mr.  Baron  and  stated  the 
case  to  him. 

The  old  planter  would  listen  to  nothing.  He  was  too 
honorable  to  temporize  and  make  false  promises.  "  Bah  ! " 
he  said,  irritably,  "  the  Yanks  will  soon  be  driven  off  as  they 
were  before.  I  can't  say  you  are  free  !  I  can't  give  you  a 
share  in  the  crops  !  It's  contrary  to  the  law  of  the  State 
and  the  whole  proper  order  of  things.  I  wouldn't  do  it 
if  I  could.  What  would  my  neighbors  think?  What  would 
I  think  of  myself?  What  a  fine  condition  I'd  be  in  after 
the  Yanks  are  all  driven  from  the  country  !  No,  I  shall 
stand  or  fall  with  the  South  and  maintain  the  institutions  of 
my  fathers.  If  you  people  leave  me  now  and  let  the  crops 
go  to  waste  you  will  soon  find  yourselves  starving.  When 
you  come  whining  back  I'll  have  nothing  to  feed  you 
with." 

Uncle  Lusthah  cast  an  imploring  look  on  Miss  Lou  where 
she  sat  in  her  chair,  with  more  interest  expressed  in  her 
wan  fece  than  she  had  shown  for  a  long  time. 

"Uncle  Lusthah,"  she  said  earnestly,  "don't  you  leave 
me.  As  soon  as  I  am  able  I'll  buy  you  of  uncle  and  set 
you  free.    Then  you  can  always  work  for  me." 

"  I  doan  wanter  lebe  you  young  mistis,  I  sut'ny  doan,  ner 
der  ole  place  whar  I  al'ays  libed.  But  freedom  sweet,  young 
mistis,  en  I  wanter  feel  I  free  befo'  I  die." 

"You  shall,  Uncle  Lusthah.  You  have  earned  your 
freedom,  anyway." 

"Tut,  tut,  Louise,  that's  no  way  to  talk,"  said  her  uncle 
testily. 


354  "miss  lou." 

The  old  slave  looked  from  one  to  the  other  sorrowfully, 
shook  his  head  and  slowly  retired. 

"Remember  what  I  said,"  Miss  Lou  called  after  him,  and 
then  sunk  back  in  her  chair. 

Uncle  Lusthah  had  to  relate  the  result  of  his  conference, 
and  the  consequence  was  an  immediate  outbreak  of  a  reck- 
less, alienated  spirit.  That  afternoon  the  field  hands  paid 
no  attention  to  Mr.  Baron's  orders,  and  he  saw  that  slaves 
from  other  plantations  were  present.  Uncle  Lusthah  sat  at 
his  door  with  his  head  bowed  on  his  breast.  His  people 
would  listen  to  him  no  more,  and  he  himself  was  so  divided 
in  his  feelings  that  he  knew  not  what  to  say. 

"  Hit  may  be  de  Lawd's  doin's  ter  set  He  people  free," 
he  muttered,  "  but  somehow  I  kyant  brung  mysef  ter  lebe 
dat  po'  sick  chile.  Ole  mars'r  en  ole  miss  kyant  see  en 
woan  see,  en  dat  lil  chile  w'at  stan'  up  fer  us  in  de  'stremity 
ob  triberlation  be  lef  wid  no  one  ter  do  fer  her.  I  berry 
ole  en  stiff  in  my  jints  en  I  cud  die  peaceful  ef  I  know 
I  free ;  but  hit  'pears  that  de  Lawd  say  ter  me,  '  Uncle 
Lusthah,  stay  right  yere  en  look  arter  dat  lil  sick  lam'.  Den 
I  mek  you  free  w'en  de  right  time  come.' " 

Uncle  Lusthah  soon  had  the  peace  of  the  martyr  who  has 
chosen  his  course.  Mr.  Baron  also  sat  on  his  veranda  with 
head  bowed  upon  his  breast.  He  too  had  chosen  his  course, 
and  now  in  consequence  was  sunk  in  more  bitter  and  morose 
protest  than  ever.  Events  were  beyond  his  control  and  he 
knew  it,  but  he  would  neither  yield  nor  change.  This  was 
the  worst  that  had  yet  befallen  him.  Black  ruin  stared  him 
in  the  face  and  he  stared  back  with  gloomy  yet  resolute  eyes. 
"  I  will  go  down  with  my  old  colors  flying,"  he  resolved,  and 
that  was  the  end  of  it. 

His  wife  was  with  him  in  sympathy,  but  her  indomitable 
spirit  would  not  be  crushed.  She  was  almost  ubiquitous 
among  the  house  and  yard  slaves,  aweing  them  into  a  sub- 


UNCLE  L US THAI!  EXHORTS.  355 

mission  which  they  scarcely  understood  and  inwardly  chafed 
at.  She  even  went  to  the  quarters  and  produced  evident 
uneasiness  by  her  stern,  cutting  words.  None  dared  reply 
to  her,  but  when  the  spell  of  her  presence  was  removed  all 
resumed  their  confused  and  exultant  deliberations  as  to  their 
future  course. 

Aun'  Jinkey,  sitting  with  Miss  Lou,  scoffed  at  the  idea  of 
going  away.  "  Long  ez  my  chimly  corner  en  my  pipe  dar 
I  dar  too,"  she  said.  "  Dis  freedom  business  so  mux  up  I 
kyant  smoke  hit  out  nohow." 

Zany  was  in  a  terribly  divided  state  of  mind.  Were  it  not 
for  Miss  Lou,  she  would  have  been  ready  enough  to  go, 
especially  as  she  had  heard  that  Chunk  was  at  the  railroad 
town.  Her  restless  spirit  craved  excitement  and  freedom  : 
a  townful  of  admirers,  with  Chunk  thrown  in,  was  an  ex- 
ceedingly alluring  prospect.  With  all  her  faults,  she  had  a 
heart,  and  the  sick  girl  had  won  her  affection  unstintedly. 
When  therefore  Miss  Lou  summoned  her  and  fixed  her  sad, 
pleading  blue  eyes  upon  her,  the  girl  threw  her  apron  over 
her  head  and  began  to  cry.  "  Doan  say  a  word,  Miss  Lou," 
she  sobbed,  "  doan  ax  me  not  ter  go  kaze  ef  you  does  I 
kyant  go." 

"  Sech  foolishness  ! "  ejaculated  Aun'  Jinkey  with  a  dis- 
dainful sniff.  "She  lebe  you  des  lak  a  cat  dat  snoop  off 
enywhar  en  arter  eny  body  w'at  got  mo'  vittles.  Wat  she 
keer?" 

Down  came  the  apron,  revealing  black  eyes  blazing  through 
the  tears  which  were  dashed  right  and  left  as  Zany  cried, 
"  You  ole  himage,  w'at  you  keer?  You  tink  a  hun'erd  times 
mo'  ob  yo'  pipe  ner  Miss  Lou.  Long  ez  you  kin  smoke  en 
projeck  in  dat  ar  ole  cabin  hole  you  woan  lebe  hit  'less  you 
turned  out.  I  des  gwine  ter  stay  out'n  spite  en  doan  wanter 
go  a  hun'erd  mile  ob  dat  gran'boy  ob  yourn." 

"There  Zany,"  said  Miss  Lou  gently,  holding  out  her 


356  "miss  lou." 

hand.  "  I  understand  you  and  Aun'  Jinkey  both,  and  you 
both  are  going  to  stay  out  of  love  for  me.  I  reckon  you 
won't  be  sorry  in  the  end." 

Up  went  the  apron  again  and  Zany  admitted,  "  I  kyant 
lebe  you,  Miss  Lou,  I  des  kyant,"  as  she  rushed  away  to 
indulge  in  the  feminine  relief  of  tears  without  stint. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Baron  passed  a  sleepless  night,  for  even  the 
question  of  food  would  be  problematical  if  all  the  able- 
bodied  men  and  women  on  the  place  went  away.  In  the 
early  dawn  there  were  ominous  sounds  at  the  quarters,  and 
as  the  light  increased  a  spectacle  which  filled  the  old  planter 
and  his  wife  with  rage  was  revealed.  The  quarters  were 
empty  and  all  were  trooping  towards  the  avenue  with  bundles 
containing  their  belongings.  This  was  to  be  expected,  but 
the  act  which  excited  the  direst  indignation  was  the  hitching 
of  the  only  pair  of  mules  left  on  the  place  that  were  worth 
anything  to  the  old  family  carriage.  Aun'  Suke  was  wad- 
dling towards  this  with  the  feeling  that  a  "char'ot  wuz 
waitin'  fer  her  now,  sho  ! " 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Baron  looked  at  each  other  in  quick, 
comprehensive  sympathy,  then  hastily  and  partially  dressed. 
Mr.  Baron  took  his  revolver  while  "  ole  miss  "  snatched  a 
sharp  carving  knife  from  the  dining-room.  By  the  time  they 
reached  the  scene,  Aun'  Suke  filled  the  back  seat  of  the  carri- 
age and  the  rest  of  the  space  was  being  filled  with  babies. 

"  Stop  that !  "  shouted  Mr.  Baron,  'i  Before  I'll  let  you 
take  my  mules  I'll  shoot  'em  both."  * 

"Ole  miss"  wasted  no  time  in  threats,  —  she  simply  cut  the 
traces  and  there  were  Aun'  Suke  and  the  babies  stranded. 
The  negroes  drew  together  on  one  side  and  master  and 
mistress  on  the  other.  The  faces  of  the  latter  were  aglow 
with  anger ;  on  the  countenances  of  the  former  were  mingled 
perplexity  and  sullen  defiance,  but  the  old  habit  of  defer- 
ence still  had  its  restraining  influence. 


UNCLE  L US THAI/  EXffOKTS.  357 

"Go  and  starve  and  leave  us  to  starve,  if  you  will," 
shouted  Mr.  Baron,  "but  you  shall  steal  none  of  my 
property." 

Angry  mutterings  began  among  the  negroes,  and  it  were 
hard  to  say  how  the  scene  would  have  ended  if  old  Uncle 
Lusthah  had  not  suddenly  appeared  between  the  opposing 
parties,  and  held  up  his  hand  impressively. 

"  I  gib  up  my  charnce  ter  be  free,"  he  began  with  simple 
dignity.  "  My  body  'longs  ter  you  yit,  mars'r  en  misus ; 
but  not  my  speret.  Out'n  dat  I  gvvine  ter  speak  plain  fer 
de  fear  ob  man  clean  gone  fum  me.  Mars'r,  w'at  I  say 
ter  you?  Lak  ole  Pharo,  you  t'ink  yo'sef  bigger'n  de 
Lawd.  Ef  you'd  done  spoke  ter  de  hans  en  say  '  des  go 
home  en  dar  de  crops  en  shar'  togeder '  dey  ud  stayed  en 
wucked  fer  you  'tented  like,  but  you  des  talk  lak  ole  Pharo. 
Now  de  people  gwine  en  you  kyant  stop  dem.  We  knowed 
'bout  de  prokermation  ob  de  gre't  Linkum.  We  know  we 
bin  free  dis  long  time.  We  al'ays  know  you  no  right  ter 
keep  us  slabes.  Dis  yer  God's  worF.  Hit  don't  'long  ter 
you  en  misus.  He  ain'  stoppin'  ter  'suit  you  'bout  He 
doin's.  Ef  you  s'mitted  ter  He  will  you'd  a  gwine  'long 
easy  lak  de  crops  grow  in  spring-time.  Now  hit  des  de 
same  ez  ef  you  plant  de  crops  in  de  fall  en  'spect  de  Lawd 
ter  turn  de  winter  inter  summer  ter  please  you.  I  berry 
ole  en  had  'sperance.  I'se  prayed  all  de  long  night  en  de 
Lawd's  gib  me  ter  see  inter  de  futer.  Lak  Moses  I  may 
neber  git  in  de  promised  Ian'  ob  freedom,  but  hit  dar  en 
you  kyant  kep  de  people  out'n  hit.  Ef  you  doan  bend  ter 
He  will,  you  breaks.  W'en  all  de  han's  gone  en  de  fiel's  is 
waste  t'ink  ober  de  trufe.  De  Lawd  did'n  mek  dis  yer 
worl'  ter  suit  you  en  misus.  P'raps  He  t'ink  ez  much  ob 
dem  po'  souls  dar  (pointing  at  the  negroes)  ez  ob  yourn. 
Didn't  I  stan'  wid  dem  w'at  die  ter  mek  us  free?  Der 
blood  wateh  dis  hull  Ian'  en  I  feels  hit  in  my  heart  dat  de 


358  umiss  lou.  M 

Lawd'll  brung  up  a  crap  dis  Ian'  neber  saw  befo'.  Please 
reckermember,  mars'r  en  misus,  de  gre't  wuck  ob  de  Lawd 
gwine  right  along  des  ez  ef  you  ain'  dar." 

Then  the  old  man  turned  to  the  negroes  and  in  his  loud, 
melodious  voice  concluded,  "  I  gibs  you  one  mo'  'zortation. 
You  is  free,  but  ez  I  say  so  of  un  you  ain'  free  ter  do  foolish- 
ness. Tek  yo'  wibes  en  chil'un ;  dey  yourn.  Tek  yo' 
clo'es ;  you  arned  um  en  much  mo',  but  you  kyant  tek  de 
mules  en  de  ker'age :  dey  mars'r's.  Go  en  wuck  lak  men 
en  wimmin  fer  hon'st  wages  en  show  you  fit  ter  be  free. 
Reckermember  all  I  tole  you  so  ofun.  De  Lawd  go  wid 
you  en  kep  you  in  de  way  ob  life  everlas'in'." 

The  better  element  among  the  negroes  prevailed,  for  they 
felt  that  they  had  had  a  spokesman  who  voiced  their  best 
and  deepest  feelings.  One  after  another  came  and  wrung 
the  hand  of  the  old  man  and  departed.  To  "  Pharo  "  and 
his  wife  few  vouchsafed  a  glance,  for  they  had  cut  the  cord 
of  human  sympathy.  Many  messages  of  affection,  however, 
were  left  for  Miss  Lou.  The  mothers  took  the  babies  from 
the  carriage,  Aun'  Suke  was  helped  out  and  she  sulkily 
waddled  down  the  avenue  with  the  rest.  By  the  time  she 
reached  the  main  road  her  powers  of  locomotion  gave  out, 
causing  her  to  drop  half-hysterical,  by  the  wayside.  Some 
counselled  her  to  go  back,  saying  they  would  come  for  her 
before  long;  but  pride,  shame  and  exhaustion  made  it 
almost  as  difficult  to  go  back  as  to  go  forward  and  so  she 
was  left  lamenting.  With  stern,  inflexible  faces,  master  and 
mistress  watched  their  property  depart,  then  returned  to  the 
house,  while  Uncle  Lusthah  mended  the  harness  temporarily 
and  took  the  carriage  back  to  its  place.  Standing  aloof, 
Zany  had  watched  the  scene,  wavering  between  her  intense 
desire  to  go  and  her  loyalty  to  Miss  Lou.  The  sick  girl 
had  conquered,  the  negress  winning  an  heroic  victory  over 
herself.    When  she  entered  the  back  door  of  the  mansion, 


•LM  LUSTHAH  EXHORTS.  359 

her  face  rigid  from  the  struggle  she  had  passed  through,  she 
was  in  no  lamb-like  mood.  Neither  was  her  mistress,  who 
was  angrier  than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life. 

"Well,"  she  said  to  Zany  in  cold,  cutting  tones,  "what 
are  you  doing  here  ?  Looking  around  for  something  to  carry 
off  before  you  go  also?" 

Stung  to  the  quick  by  this  implied  charge  and  lack  of 
appreciation  of  her  great  self-sacrifice,  Zany  replied  hotly, 
"  I  done  wid  you,  misus.  I  tek  no  mo'  orders  fum  you.  I 
stay  fer  sump'n  you  doan  know  not'n  'bout  —  lub,  but  lub  fer 
Miss  Lou.     Ef  she  kyant  'tect  me  'gin  you  den  I  go." 


360  "MISS  LOU." 


CHAPTER  XXXVII. 

A  NEW  ROUTINE. 

IT  certainly  was  a  dismal,  shrunken  household  that  Mrs. 
Baron  presided  over  that  morning.  Aun'  Jinkey  came 
to  the  rescue  and  prepared  a  meagre  breakfast.  Miss  Lou's 
room  being  on  the  side  of  the  house  farthest  from  the  scenes 
of  the  early  morning,  she  had  slept  on  till  Zany  wakened 
her.  She  listened  in  a  sort  of  dreary  apathy  to  all  that  had 
occurred,  feeling  that  she  was  too  weak  physically  and-  too 
broken-spirited  to  interfere.  She  also  had  the  impression 
that  it  would  have  been  of  no  use  —  that  her  uncle  and  aunt 
were  so  fixed  in  their  ways  and  views  that  nothing  but  harsh 
experience  could  teach  them  anything.  In  answer  to 
Zany's  appeal  for  protection  against  "  ole  miss  "  Miss  Lou 
said,  "  We  won't  say  anything  more  about  it  now  till  you 
get  over  your  hurt  feelings,  which  are  very  natural.  Of 
course  my  aunt  can't  punish  you  —  that's  out  of  the  question 
now,  but  by  and  by  I  reckon  you  will  do  for  her  out  of  love 
for  me  when  you  see  it  will  save  me  trouble.  You  have 
done  a  good,  unselfish  act  in  staying  with  me,  and  having 
begun  so  well,  you  will  keep  on  in  the  same  way.  After  all 
of  the  rest  get  free  you  will,  too.  What's  more,  when  I 
come  into  my  property  I'll  make  free  all  who  stand  by  me 
now." 

So  Zany  brought  her  up  a  nice  little  breakfast  and  was 
comforted. 

When  at  last  the  young  girl  with  weak,  uncertain  steps 


A    NEW  ROUT/. YE.  36 1 

came  down  to  her  easy  chair  on  the  piazza,  she  found  her 
uncle  gloomily  smoking,  and  her  aunt  solacing  her  perturbed 
mind  with  her  chief  resource  —  housekeeping  affairs.  Little 
was  said  beyond  a  formal  greeting. 

As  Miss  Lou  sat  gazing  vacantly  and  sadly  down  the 
avenue,  a  huge  figure  appeared,  making  slow,  painful  prog- 
ress towards  the  house.  At  last  Aun'  Suke  was  recognized, 
and  the  truth  flashed  across  the  girl's  mind  that  the  fat  old 
cook  had  found  she  could  not  get  away.  Finally  the 
woman  sat  down  under  a  tree  not  far  from  the  house,  not 
only  overcome  by  heat  and  fatigue,  but  also  under  the 
impression  that  she  must  open  negotiations  before  she  could 
expect  to  be  received. 

"  There,"  said  Mr.  Baron  grimly,  "  is  one  of  them  coming 
back  already.  They'll  be  sneaking,  whining  back  when  the 
crops  are  spoiled  and  it's  too  late." 

Miss  Lou  rose  feebly  and  got  an  old  sunshade  from  the 
hall. 

"  Louise,  you  are  not  able  —  I  forbid  it." 

The  girl  felt  she  had  strength  to  get  to  the  old  woman 
but  not  enough  to  contend  with  her  uncle,  so  she  went 
slowly  down  the  steps  without  a  word.  Mr.  Baron  growled, 
"  I  might  as  well  speak  to  the  wind  as  to  anybody  on  the 
place  any  more." 

When  Aun'  Suke  saw  the  girl  coming  to  her  she  scrambled 
to  her  feet,  and  holding  up  her  hands  ejaculated  all  sorts  of 
remorseful  and  deprecatory  comments. 

"  Welcome  back,"  said  Miss  Lou  kindly,  when  in  speak- 
ing distance.  "  There,  don't  go  on  so.  Sit  down  and  I'll 
sit  down  with  you."  She  sunk  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  and 
leaned  against  it  panting. 

"  I  des  feels  ez  ef  de  yeth  ud  op'n  en  swaller  me,"  began 
the  poor  renegade,  quivering  with  emotion. 

"Don't  talk  so,  Aun'  Suke.     I'm  not  strong  enough  to 


362  "MISS  LOU." 

stand  foolishness.  You  will  go  back  with  me  and  stay  with 
Uncle  Lusthah  and  Aun'  Jinkey  and  Zany.  You  will  cook 
for  us  all  just  the  same  and  by  and  by  you  will  be  as  free  as 
I  am." 

"Well,  Miss  Lou,  I  comin'  back  lak  de  perdigous  son, 
but  ole  miss  ain'  got  no  fatted  calf  fer  me,  ner  you  neider, 
I  reckon.     I  des  feered  on  w'at  ole  miss  say  en  do." 

"Aun'  Suke,"  said  the  girl,  taking  the  woman's  great 
black  hand,  "you  stand  by  me  and  I'll  stand  by  you. 
When  I  get  stronger  we'll  see  what's  best  to  be  done. 
Now  I  can't  think,  I  don't  know.  I  only  feel  that  we 
must  help  one  another  till  all  is  clearer." 

Mrs.  Baron  accepted  Aun'  Suke's  presence  in  the  kitchen 
again  in  grim  silence.  She  believed  it  the  earnest  of  the 
speedy  return  of  all  the  others  and  resolved  to  bide  her 
time  when  the  Southern  armies  restored  completely  the  old 
order  of  things. 

Mrs.  Whately  drove  over  during  the  day  and  was  aghast 
at  what  had  occurred. 

"  I  have  kept  the  great  majority  of  my  hands  by  concilia- 
tion and  promising  them  a  share  in  the  crops.  Indeed,  I 
had  virtually  to  treat  them  as  if  free.  It  was  either  that  or 
ruin." 

"Well,"  growled  her  brother,  "you  can't  keep  that  pace 
and  I  wouldn't  begin  it." 

"  I  can  only  do  the  best  I  can,  from  day  to  day,"  sighed 
the  lady,  "  and  I've  been  almost  distracted." 

After  showing  her  affectionate  solicitude  for  Miss  Lou 
she  returned,  feeling  that  her  presence  at  home  was  now 
hourly  needed. 

Gradually  the  little  household  began  to  adjust  itself  to  the 
new  order  of  things,  and  day  by  day  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Baron 
were  compelled  to  see  that  the  few  servants  who  ministered 
to  them  were  kept  at  their  tasks  by  an  influence  in  which 


A   NEW  ROUTINE.  363 

they  had  no  part.  Almost  imperceptibly,  Miss  Lou  regained 
her  strength,  yet  was  but  the  shadow  of  her  former  self. 
Uncle  Lusthah  gave  his  attention  to  the  garden,  already 
getting  weed-choked.  The  best  he  could  hope  to  do  was 
to  keep  up  a  meagre  supply  of  vegetables  and  Zany  in  the 
cool  of  the  day  often  gave  him  a  helping  hand. 

Late  one  afternoon  Miss  Lou,  feeling  a  little  stronger, 
went  to  Aun'  Jinkey's  cabin  and  sat  down  on  the  doorstep. 

"  O  mammy,"  she  sighed,  "  I'm  so  tired,  I'm  so  tired ; 
yet  I  can  do  nothing  at  all." 

"  You  po'  in  chile,"  groaned  Aun'  Jinkey,  "  how  difernt 
you  looks  ner  w'en  you  fus  sot  dar  en  wish  sump'n  happen." 

"  Oh,"  cried  the  girl  almost  despairingly,  "  too  much  has 
happened  !  too  much  has  happened  !  How  can  God  let 
such  troubles  come  upon  us?" 

"Eben  Uncle  Lusthah  hab  ter  say  he  dunno.  He  say 
he  des  gwine  ter  hole  on  twel  de  eend,  en  dat  all  he  kin 
do." 

"O  mammy,  I'm  all  at  sea.  I  haven't  any  strength  to 
hold  on  and  there  doesn't  seem  anything  to  hold  on  to. 
O  mammy,  mammy,  do  you  think  he's  surely  dead?" 

"I  feared  he  is,"  groaned  Aun'  Jinkey.  "Dey  say  he 
spook  come  arter  Perkins  en  dat  w'y  de  oberseer  clared 
out." 

"  Oh,  horrible  ! "  cried  the  girl.  "  If  his  spirit  could 
come  here  at  all  would  it  not  come  to  me  instead  of  to  that 
brutal  wretch  ?  O,  mammy,  I  don't  know  which  is  worse, 
your  religion  or  your  superstition.  You  believe  in  a  God 
who  lets  such  things  happen  and  you  can  think  my  noble 
friend  would  come  back  here  only  to  scare  a  man  like 
Perkins.  It's  all  just  horrible.  O  Allan,  Allan,  are  you  so 
lost  to  me  that  you  can  never  look  good-will  into  my  eyes 
again?" 

Tears  rushed  to  her  eyes  for  the  first  time  since  she  heard 


364  "MISS  LOU." 

the  dreadful  tidings,  and  she  sobbed  in  her  mammy's  arms 
till  exhausted. 

That  outburst  of  grief  and  the  relief  of  tears  given  by 
kindly  nature  was  the  decisive  point  in  Miss  Lou's  conva- 
lescence. She  was  almost  carried  back  to  her  room  and 
slept  till  late  the  following  day.  When  she  awoke  she  felt 
that  her  strength  was  returning,  and  with  it  came  the  cour- 
age to  take  up  the  burdens  of  life.  For  weeks  it  was  little 
more  than  the  courage  of  a  naturally  brave,  conscientious 
nature  which  will  not  yield  to  the  cowardice  and  weakness 
of  inaction.  The  value  of  work,  of  constant  occupation,  to 
sustain  and  divert  the  mind,  was  speedily  learned.  Gradu- 
ally she  took  the  helm  of  out-door  matters  from  her  uncle's 
nerveless  hands.  She  had  a  good  deal  of  a  battle  in  respect 
to  Chunk.  It  was  a  sham  one  on  the  part  of  Zany,  as  the 
girl  well  knew,  for  Chunk's  "  tootin' "  was  missed  terribly. 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Baron  at  first  refused  point-blank,  to  hear  of 
his  returning. 

"Uncle,"  said  his  ward  gravely,  "is  only  your  property 
at  stake  ?  I  can  manage  Chunk,  and  through  him  perhaps 
get  others.  I  am  not  responsible  for  changes  which  I  can't 
help ;  I  am  to  blame  if  I  sit  down  idly  and  helplessly  and 
do  nothing  better  than  fret  or  sulk.  Your  bitter  words  of 
protest  are  not  bread  and  bring  no  money.  For  your  sakes 
as  well  as  my  own  you  must  either  act  or  let  me  act." 

The  honorable  old  planter  was  touched  at  his  most  sensi- 
tive point,  and  reluctantly  conceded,  saying,  "Oh  well,  if 
you  think  you. can  save  any  of  your  property  out  of  the 
wreck,  employ  Chunk  on  your  own  responsibility." 

So  Chunk  was  reinstated  in  his  granny's  cabin  and  given  a 
share  in  all  he  could  raise  and  secure  of  the  crops.  The 
negro  was  as  shrewd  as  Jacob  of  old,  but  like  the  Hebrew 
patriarch  could  do  much  under  the  inspiration  of  his  twofold 
affection  for  Zany  and  his  young  mistress. 


A    NEW  ROUTINE.  365 

And  so  the  summer  and  early  fall  wore  away.  The  rail- 
road line  of  communication  was  maintained,  and  upon  it 
drifted  away  Mr.  Baron's  former  slaves  and  the  great  majority 
of  the  others  in  the  neighborhood.  The  region  in  which  the 
plantation  was  situated  was  so  remote  and  sparsely  settled 
that  it  was  a  sort  of  border  land,  unclaimed  and  unvisited 
by  any  considerable  bodies  from  either  party.  Rev.  Dr. 
"Williams'  congregation  had  shrunken  to  a  handful.  He 
officiated  at  one  end  of  the  church,  and  his  plump,  black- 
eyed  daughter  led  the  singing  at  the  other,  but  it  was 
observed  that  she  looked  discontented  rather  than  devo- 
tional. She  was  keenly  alive  to  the  fact  that  there  was  not 
an  eligible  man  left  in  the  parish.  Uncle  Lusthah  patiently 
drove  the  mules  every  clear  Sunday  morning  and  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Baron  sat  in  the  carriage  whose  springs  Aun'  Suke  had 
sorely  tried ;  but  Miss  Lou  would  not  go  with  them.  After 
his  readiness  to  marry  her  to  her  cousin  she  felt  it  would 
be  worse  than  mockery  to  listen  to  Dr.  Williams  again. 

But  a  deep,  yet  morbid  spiritual  change  was  taking  place 
in  the  girl.  As  of  old,  she  thought  and  brooded  when  her 
hands  were  busy,  and  during  her  long,  solitary  evenings  on 
the  piazza.  Strange  to  say,  she  was  drawing  much  of  her 
inspiration  from  a  grave  —  the  grave  of  a  rough,  profane 
soldier  whom  she  knew  only  as  "Yarry."  There  was 
something  in  his  self-forgetful  effort  in  her  behalf,  even  when 
in  the  mortal  anguish  of  death,  which  appealed  to  her  most 
powerfully.  His  heroism,  expecting,  hoping  for  no  reward, 
became  the  finest  thing  in  her  estimation  she  had  ever  wit- 
nessed. Her  own  love  taught  her  why  Scoville  was  attracted 
by  her  and  became  ready  to  do  anything  for  her.  "Ti 
the  old,  old  story,"  she  mused,  "  ever  sweet  and  new, 
old  as  the  world.  Poor  Yarry  was  actuated  by  a  purely 
unselfish,  noble  impulse.  Only  such  an  impulse  can  sustain 
and  carry  me  through  my  life.     No,  no,  Mrs.  Waldo,  I  can 


366  "M/ss  lou." 

never  become  happy  in  making  others  happy.  I  can  never 
be  happy  again.  The  bullet  which  killed  Allan  Scoville 
pierced  my  heart  also  and  it  is  dead,  but  that  poor  soldier 
taught  me  how  one  can  still  live  and  suffer  nobly,  and  such 
a  life  must  be  pleasing  to  the  only  God  I  can  worship." 

All  wondered  at  the  change  gradually  taking  place  in  the 
girl.  It  was  too  resolute,  too  much  the  offspring  of  her 
will  rather  than  her  heart  to  have  in  it  much  gentleness,  but 
it  was  observed  that  she  was  becoming  gravely  and  patiently 
considerate  of  others,  even  of  their  faults  and  follies.  As 
far  as  possible,  her  uncle  and  aunt  were  allowed  their  own 
way  without  protest,  the  girl  sacrificing  her  own  feelings  and 
wishes  when  it  was  possible.  They  at  last  began  to  admit 
that  their  niece  was  manifesting  a  becoming  spirit  of  sub- 
mission and  deference,  when  in  fact  her  management  of  their 
affairs  was  saving  them  from  an  impoverishment  scarcely  to 
be  endured. 

For  Mrs.  Whately  the  girl  now  had  a  genuine  and  strong 
affection,  chilled  only  by  her  belief  that  the  plan  in  regard 
to  the  son  was  ever  in  the  mother's  mind.  So  indeed  it 
was.  The  sagacious  woman  watched  Miss  Lou  closely  and 
with  feelings  of  growing  hope  as  well  as  of  tenderness.  The 
girl  was  showing  a  patience,  a  strength  of  mind,  and  above 
all,  a  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  which  satisfied  Mrs.  Whately 
that  she  was  the  one  of  all  the  world  for  her  son. 

"I  do  believe,"  she  thought,  "that  if  I  can  only  make 
Louise  think  it  will  be  best  for  us  all  as  well  as  Madison,  she 
will  yield.  The  spirit  of  self-sacrifice  seems  her  supreme 
impulse.  Her  sadness  will  pass  away  in  time,  and  she 
would  soon  learn  to  love  the  father  of  her  children.  What's 
more,  there  is  something  about  her  now  which  would  hold 
any  man's  love.  See  how  her  lightest  wish  controls  those 
who  work  for  her,  even  that  harum-scarum  Zany." 


A   NEW  ROUTINE.  367 

In  the  late  autumn  a  long  delayed  letter  threw  Mrs. 
Whately  into  a  panic  of  fear  and  anxiety.  A  surgeon  wrote 
that  her  son  had  been  severely  wounded  and  had  lost  his 
left  arm  but  that  he  was  doing  well. 

Here  the  author  laid  down  his  pen.  In  Mr.  Roe's  journal 
under  date  of  July  11,  is  an  entry  alluding  to  a  conversation 
with  a  friend.  That  conversation  concerned  the  conclusion 
of  this  book,  and  was,  in  effect,  substantially  the  same  as  the 
outline  given  by  him  in  a  letter,  part  of  which  is  quoted  as 
follows :  — 

"  It  is  not  my  purpose  to  dwell  further  on  incidents  con- 
nected with  the  close  of  the  war,  as  the  book  may  be 
considered  too  long  already.  It  only  remains  for  me  now 
to  get  all  my  people  happy  as  soon  as  possible.  Zany  and 
Chunk  '  make  up,'  and  a  good  deal  of  their  characteristic 
love-making  will  be  worked  in  to  relieve  the  rather  sombre 
state  of  things  at  this  stage.  Whately  returns  with  his  empty 
sleeve,  more  of  a  hero  than  ever  in  his  own  eyes  and  his 
mother's.  Miss  Lou  thinks  him  strangely  thoughtful  and 
considerate  in  keeping  away,  as  he  does,  after  a  few  short 
visits  at  the  Oaks.  The  truth  is,  he  is  wofully  disappointed 
at  the  change  in  his  cousin's  looks.  This  pale,  listless,  hollow- 
eyed  girl  is  not  the  one  who  set  him  to  reading  'Taming 
of  the  Shrew.'  That  her  beauty  of  color  and  of  outline 
could  ever  return,  he  does  not  consider ;  and  in  swift  revul- 
sion of  feeling,  secretly  pays  court  elsewhere. 

"  Mrs.  Whately,  however,  makes  up  for  her  son's  deficien- 
cies. Utterly  ignorant  how  affairs  are  shaping,  she  works  by 
her  representations  upon  Miss  Lou's  sympathies  until  the 
weary  consent  is  wrung  from  the  poor  girl,  —  'Nothing 
matters  to  me  any  more  !  If  it  makes  you  all  happy  —  why 
—  then —  But  I  must  wait  a  year.'  She  feels  that  her 
love  for  Allen   Scoville  will   never  be   less,  and   that   this 


368  "miss  lou." 

period  of  time  is  little  enough  to  devote  to  him  in  silent 
memory. 

"The  delighted  aunt  hastens  to  report  to  her  son,  who 
stares  rather  blankly,  for  a  lover,  as  he  hears  of  this  conces- 
sion on  his  cousin's  part,  and  without  answer,  he  orders  his 
horse  and  rides  furiously  away.  The  ride  is  one  that  has 
been  very  frequently  taken  since  the  young  man's  return, 
and  pretty  soon  he  is  in  earnest  conversation  with  the  rosy- 
cheeked,  black-eyed  daughter  of  Dr.  Williams.  There 
seems  to  be  very  good  understanding  between  the  two,  and 
later,  just  at  the  final  scene  it  will  come  out  as  effectively  as 
can  be  portrayed  the  startling  news  of  their  secret  marriage. 

"The  days  go  on.  One  afternoon  in  the  late  autumn, 
Aun'  Jinkey,  smoking  and  '  projeckin' '  as  usual  in  her  cabin, 
has  a  vision  which  fairly  sends  her  heart,  as  she  will  express 
it,  '  right  troo  de  mouf.'  Was  it  a  '  spook,'  or  had  the  dead 
really  come  back  to  life  ?  And  I  hear  her  exclaim,  throwing 
up  her  hands,  '  Bress  de  Lawd,  Marse  Scoville,  dat  you  ? 
Whar  you  drap  fum  dis  yere  time?  I  doan  almos'  know 
you  widout  de  un'fo'm  ! ' 

"But  the  'vision '  will  not  stop  to  narrate  to  the  old  aunty 
of  his  capture,  imprisonment  and  illness,  his  release  and 
hurried  journey  North.  He  catches  sight  of  the  slight 
figure  of  Miss  Lou  in  the  distance  near  the  run,  and  in  a 
moment  is  beside  her.  '  Only  death  could  keep  me  from 
seeking  you  and  living  for  you  always,  did  I  not  tell  you,  my 
darling,  my  darling? ' 

"  And  here  I  will  leave  them.  The  reader's  imagination 
will  picture  more  if  more  is  wished.     It  is  better  so." 


The  following  is  a  list  of 

The  Works  of 

Edward  P.  Roe. 

All  of  these  are  uniformly  bound  in  cloth,  i2mo, 
at  $1.50  each. 

BARRIERS  BURNED  AWAY, 
WHAT  CAN  SHE  DO? 

OPENING  A  CHESTNUT  BURR, 

NEAR  TO  NATURE'S  HEART, 

FROM  JEST  TO  EARNEST, 
A  KNIGHT  OF  THE  XIXTH  CENTURY, 
A  FACE  ILLUMINED, 
A  DAY  OF  FATE, 

WITHOUT  A  HOME, 

HIS  SOMBRE  RIVALS, 

A  YOUNG  GIRL'S  WOOING, 
AN  ORIGINAL  BELLE, 

DRIVEN  BACK  TO  EDEN, 

NATURE'S  SERIAL  STORY, 

HE  FELL  IN  LOVE   WITH   HIS  WIFE, 
THE  EARTH  TREMBLED, 
MISS  LOU  (NEW). 


DODD,    MEAD    &   COMPANY, 

PUBLISHERS, 

753  and  755  Broadway,  New  York. 


Messrs.  Dodd,  Mead  &  Company  have  published 
by  arrangement  with  Messrs.  Chatto  &  Windus,  and 
from  duplicate  plates  of  their  new  edition, 

The  Novels  of 

Besant  and  Rice. 

Library  edition,  crown  8vo,  handsomely  printed 
and  bound  in  cloth,  with  gilt  tops. 

Price,  $1.50  per  vol. 

THE  GOLDEN  BUTTERFLY, 

THE  MONKS  OF  THELEMA, 

WITH  HARP  AND  CROWN, 
MY  LITTLE  GIRL, 

BY  CELIA'S  ARBOUR, 

THIS  SON  OF  VULCAN, 
THE  TEN  YEARS'  TENANT, 

READY  MONEY  MORTIBOY, 

THE  CHAPLAIN  OF  THE  FLEET, 
THE  SEAMY  SIDE, 

THE  CASE  OF  MR.  LUCRAFT, 
'TWAS  IN  TRAFALGAR'S  BAY. 

"As  stories  every  one  of  these  has  Its  individual  charm. 
Their  men  are  manly  and  their  women  are  womanly.  Honor  and 
gentlehood  form  the  theme  of  all  the  novels.  It  is  this  which 
gives  them  their  potent  charm.  To  the  fancy  of  these  writers 
every  good  girl  is  a  princess,  and  every  young  man  is  a  knight, 
sworn  to  pay  her  reverence  and  to  defend  her  against  all  breath 
of  evil.  And  as  long  as  such  suggestions  appeal  to  the  truest 
and  highest  of  feelings,  Besant  &  Rice  will  have  a  deserved  pop- 
ularity."— The  Epoch. 

DODD,   MEAD    &   COMPANY, 

753  &  755  Broadway,  New  York. 


The  Works  of 

Mrs.  Amelia  E.  Barr 

ARE    AS   FOLLOWS. 

They  are  published  in  cloth,  i2mo,  at  the  uniform 
price  of  $1.00. 

REMEMBER  THE  ALAMO  (Just  Published), 
JAN  VEDDER'S  WIFE, 

A  DAUGHTER  OF  FIFE, 

THE  BOW  OF  ORANGE  RIBBON, 
THE  SQUIRE  OF  SANDAL-SIDE, 

A  BORDER  SHEPHERDESS, 

PAUL  AND  CHRISTINA, 

MASTER  OF  HIS  FATE. 

"The  world  does  not  yet  fully  appreciate  Mrs.  Barr.  In  our 
opinion  there  is  no  living  American  woman  novelist  superior  to 
her  in  healthiness  of  perception  and  helpfulness  of  purpose. 
There  is  not  a  trace  of  morbidness  in  her  books.  Let  the  reader 
who  is  disposed  to  question  the  title  of  Mrs.  Barr  to  the  place 
we  have  assigned  ask  himself  whioh  of  the  American  women 
novelists  of  the  day  could  have  written  '  Jan  Vedder.' " — The 
Advertiser,  Boston. 

"  Mrs.  Barr's  style  is  clear  and  strong,  her  literary  workman- 
ship that  of  an  artist,  her  spirit,  sentiment,  and  teaching  sound 
and  sweet.  She  has  the  real  staying  power,  and  know*  what  to 
say  and  what  to  leave  unsaid." — Literary  World. 


DODD,    MEAD   &   COMPANY, 

753  and  755  Broadway,  New  York. 


